How Deep the Bullet Lies
by Sinmora
Summary: Set during S1, a prequel to "Break Yourself Against my Stones" but can be read as a standalone. This a dark dive into the mind of Emma Swan and my version of how Swan Queen evolved over the season (sorry, no actual SQ physical lovin' during this one). Warnings: violence, sexual abuse, drug abuse, Child abuse (Emma's flashbacks, NOT Henry), strong language and lots of feels.
1. Chapter 1

Hello Sweet Doves! I couldn't resist. I do hope you enjoy my dark take on season 1. Let me know what you think!

Enjoy Lovelies!

Songs: Rescue Me by Kerrie Roberts and Running up That Hill by Placebo (I prefer Within Temptation's version, but this one suit's the mood of the story better.)

* * *

Emma Swan was a lone wolf. She never cultivated friendships beyond one night. She tracked down criminals during Thanksgiving and Christmas because they always went home to mama every single time. The money she made from the end of November through the beginning of January filled her bank account with enough cash to support her for the rest of the year. For the past three years, she paid her bills, bought herself a Christmas present (this year had been a form-fitting dark red leather jacket), and tucked the rest away in a savings account.

For her birthday, she bought herself a cupcake from her favorite pastry shop, a little hole-in-the-wall place she'd discovered when she lived in South Boston, and a small baggie of heroin from the back of the same shop, enough for one high if she chose to use it. They trusted her there, despite her career choice. Her promise remained the same every year: they weren't her responsibility until they got caught and skipped bail. She always used cash for both, limiting the trail between her and her beloved shop.

They'd been her friends once until she'd cleaned herself up and discovered they valued loyalty to their product more than loyalty to them as people. She and the woman behind the counter, Casey, met each other in prison nearly eleven years ago and traveled together until Boston. They were admitted on the same day and endured the detox and rehab program addicts completed before being moved to a proper cell. It brought them together in more ways than one, and Emma thought she'd found a friend, someone to partially share her life with and lean on.

When Emma was released, she'd hung around and waited six more months for Casey to get out as well, and then they took off together. Neither of them wanted to stay in one place for long, and no matter where they went, drugs seemed to follow. So when one came home to find the other with their bags packed and twitching in the beginning stages of withdrawal, the other immediately dropped her life, quit her job, and pointed to a place on the map. That's how they'd decided on their new location every time except last year, but the method of selection mattered very little to Emma. Criminals jumped bail everywhere, and every city had a rehab program.

They moved, spent a portion of Emma's savings on another rehab program and promised each other they'd stay clean that time and finally settle down. Casey grew up in Boston and wanted to come home, so they'd moved here together almost three years ago. She promised Emma that she'd not fall back into old habits of dealing and using, like she always had, but Emma decided that she'd make good on that vow when they moved to Boston, not knowing Casey's entire family ran a heroin ring, her blessed drug of choice.

Casey made her choose, and she'd chosen herself. She lacked the strength to go through rehab one more time. Every year on her birthday, she visited Casey under the guise of buying herself a cupcake because she couldn't bare facing it alone. Casey had been her only comfort and support for the past eleven years, and Emma missed her terribly, so much that she almost bought heroin to give to her friend, just to see her again. Her family kept a close watch on her and her relationship with the bail bonds person.

Her first birthday in Boston came only a month after they'd moved, and Casey smiled happily when she walked through the door. She looked good, tired from working seven days a week in her mother's pastry shop but healthy. Emma thought perhaps Casey had found her strength in her family and no longer needed her fix. She bought a baggie of heroin and told Casey that one person at a time would be helped because she'd buy a bag every year on her birthday and throw in out. Casey grinned and agreed with her method of contribution.

Her second birthday saw a dramatic decline in Casey's health, and Emma's heart broke. She barely looked at her as she ordered the cupcake and then marched to the back and ordered two baggies of heroin. She tossed money at Casey's older brother in disgust at his healthy figure and clean teeth. He laughed at her back as she left. She offered Casey safe haven at her apartment, offered to pay for her rehab, but her friend refused, claiming she wasn't strong enough to do it if Emma wasn't coming with her. Emma left without another word. Guilt and grief filled her heart that night.

Her stomach clenched with anxiety and she took a deep breath. This year she swore she'd be forcing Casey to come with her, get her the help she needed and take care of her. Her motives weren't completely altruistic. She'd been alone for nearly three years, her only conversations were between her boss and the criminals she caught. At least Casey loved her, even if she had mostly used her for cash and a place to live over the years. She was the only person in the world Emma cared for, and she couldn't stand the loneliness anymore.

She smoothed her hands over red bombshell dress she'd used as a distraction for the mark she hauled in that night and opened the door. An older woman, probably Casey's mother, behind the counter looked up, exhaustion in her eyes, and pulled a boxed cupcake from behind the counter. She'd expected Emma, and the bonds person's heart sank.

"Where's Casey?" She forced out and swallowed the bile in her throat.

The woman only looked at her sadly, tears in those old tired eyes. Casey's brother stepped from the back room. He, too, looked worn and tired, but in much better spirits than his mother. He smiled and set three baggies of heroin on the counter by her cupcake. She glared at the man.

"Casey died a few months ago. Overdose," he explained and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

"What?" Emma blinked rapidly and glanced between Casey's family, the people who were supposed to love her more than anyone else in the world. Anger exploded in her chest.

"Why didn't anyone call me?" She shoved the man into the counter and maintained a tight grip on his shirt as she got in his face. "I would have helped her! Why didn't anyone tell me it was this bad?" Her control hung by a thread, and she released the man before she did something stupid like punch the leader of a heroin ring in his place of business in South Boston.

"We didn't know. She told us that she had it under control," he explained as if it were a business transaction and straightened his clothes.

"How could you not know? I knew last year when I was here, and you people saw her every damn day! I was going to take her to a center tonight whether she wanted to go or not. You should have done it a year ago!" Emma screamed at them, fist clenched and spit flying.

"Why didn't anyone call me?" It was supposed to be fierce, spoken in anger, but she sounded like a broken little girl. Who would love her now?

Her heart deadened. She pulled a wad of cash from her bra and set it on the counter in exchange for the cupcake and drugs. She tucked the three baggies into her bra, thinking they felt fuller than her previous orders, and grabbed her cupcake.

"That's not enough. Those are bigger portions than last year. We upped our minimum order. 20 percent cash increase," he smiled and extended his hand. Emma almost puked on him.

"Consider my down payment made in emotional collateral," Emma tossed over her shoulder and reached between her legs for the hand gun strapped there. Just in case.

No one followed her, though, and she snapped the nylon strap over the butt of the gun when she locked herself safely in her yellow bug. Perhaps Casey's bastard brother had a heart after all. She took off immediately, figured that crying in her bug on this street was just asking for trouble. An obviously vulnerable and emotionally distraught woman dressed for a five star restaurant wouldn't have fared well in this part of town.

By the time she reached her modest apartment, her tears had dried. A pleasant hollowness settled into her chest, and she mechanically parked her car and traipsed to her apartment in defeat. No one would have missed her if she'd just ended everything. They probably wouldn't even have found her body until her savings account ran out and her superintendent came to toss her out on her head. She'd simply slip away into the ether, a nothing, a lost soul trapped in a desolate life met a tragic end.

She kicked off her heels and left them in the hallway and set the cupcake on the counter. She pulled the heroin from her bra and tossed it on the counter beside the box. She stared so long that her green eyes misted from lack of blinking, which lead to more tears. There was more than enough to do the job. One more blaze of glory. She sniffed and wiped her nose with the back of her thumb. In the morning, if nothing healed her hopelessness, she joined Casey in the same manner.

The decision calmed her, filled her with peace. It was the right choice. She always felt so serene, and that's how she knew when she'd chosen the right path. She was done. There was nothing left for her in the world. She stuck the little blue star candle on top of her cupcake and lit it.

"Another banner year," she whispered sadly to herself and stared at the tiny flame waving happily to and fro. She closed her eyes and thought hard about what she wanted most.

_I wish I didn't have to be alone on my birthday._ Her face scrunched with the power of that wish. It was the only thing she'd ever wanted. She blew out the candle without opening her eyes, sending extra energy into the universe. What could it possibly hurt if she wished extra hard? Her eyes opened slowly, disappointment settling into her chest. What had she expected?

A knock at the door startled her, and her hand reached instinctively for her gun. She unhooked the safety strap and hiked her dress slightly. Maybe Casey's brother had followed her. What was his name? Why had she never asked for it? She stuffed the heroin back into her bra and approached her door slowly. With a steadying breath, she gripped the knob and jerked it open, hoping to catch the intruder off guard with the abruptness.

Her eyebrows scrunched in confusion when no one awaited her. She glanced down to find the shining eyes of a little boy with a shit-eating grin on his face.

"Are you Emma Swan?" He asked hopefully, and her eyebrows shot skyward. Why was this kid so familiar?

"Uhh, yeah? Who are you?" She studied his face hard, knowing she'd seen his features somewhere.

"My name is Henry. I'm your son."


	2. Damn it, Kid

Yes, yes, I know my beautiful doves. The details of this story won't match exactly with that of my previous story, so if you've read "Break Yourself against my Stones" don't judge too harshly. I do believe I've fallen too deeply in love with those versions of the characters to truly write a prequel that isn't completely filled with fluffy swaddle, so I've decided to just make them two independent stories that kinda sorta match up in terms of ending and beginning. Roll with it for me. I like where it is heading and I hope you do, too!

Enjoy Lovelies!

Songs: Rescue Me by Kerrie Roberts, Faster by Within Temptation, No Light, No Light by Florence + The Machine

* * *

Emma felt her sanity slowly slipping as mile after bleeding mile passed. They sailed through the last town 30 minutes ago, and now the darkness and the tall trees unsettled her. If Henry had been an adult, she probably would have cuffed him and tossed him in the back seat by now. The last stretch of road leading to Storybrooke freaked her out almost as much as having her son in the passenger seat prattling about fairy tales that were true stories. Of course her kid ended up with mental problems.

She sighed and glanced at him one more time. He'd nodded off against the door nearly an hour ago, and she breathed a little easier without his constant chittering about crazy stuff. She felt guilty, but ultimately, he wasn't her responsibility. She'd given that right away when she asked for a closed adoption, knowing he'd do far better in life without her influence. She determined to check out his parents, make sure nothing untoward was happening, and then run back to Boston as fast as her little bug would fly. She gritted her teeth against the unpleasant knowledge that she'd be moving when she returned, immediately. No she wouldn't, not if she followed Casey to the grave.

"Damn it, Kid," she muttered. She liked Boston, but she'd already decided to take her own life come morning. She hated Boston because of what it had done to her relationship with Casey, but she also loved the city and got along with her boss far better than previous ones. He gave her the good cases, hadn't shied away from her being a woman, probably because he never offered health insurance. That was her responsibility if she got hurt.

Her elbow hit the window with a jolt and she dropped her head to her hand. Her resolve softened with each mile towards the secluded town from which her son had hopped a bus and found her on his own. She puffed a sigh in her cheeks and released it with a whoosh between her lips when she finally passed a sign indicating she'd reached Storybrooke. It actually existed. It was in the middle of nowhere but it was real. She poked the boy next to her until he grumbled to life, reminding her of herself when she awoke unexpectedly. Damn genetics.

"Hey Kid, we're in Storybrooke. Want to tell me how far to town?" Emma sniped at her son.

"Not far," he answered and rubbed his eyes sleepily. The gesture endeared him to her, having mimicked one that she'd done almost every morning of her life. Damn. He really was hers. Her stomach knotted painfully.

They fell into silence until they reached the town proper. It was quiet and dark, a safe sleepy small town. It seemed like a nice place to grow up, one that helped children be children until they became adults. Even then, they visited every Sunday for dinner with the family and lived two blocks away for their entire lives. She'd dreamed of something like this when she wished for a family, and her son had been granted her wish. It was more than she could have hoped for the child she'd given away.

"Want to give me an address?" She barked, slowing to take in the all of the independent mom and pop shops on the main street stretch.

"44th I'm-not-telling-you street," Henry answered arrogantly.

She slammed the brakes, hands gripping the wheel like a life vest. Who the hell did this kid think he was? Did he not understand that she wanted nothing to do with him? The heroin in her bra suddenly felt heavier against her chest, and she hung her head. It needed to be disposed of and fast. She stepped into the cool Maine air and slammed the door to her bug, gasping beneath the weight of her situation. Casey was dead. Her only friend died, and not only had Emma done nothing to help her, she hadn't even known of her overdose until months later.

"Be careful what you wish for," she murmured, flinching when the passenger door closing signaled Henry's exit from the vehicle as well.

"Henry?" A soft male voice floated across the street, and Emma looked up to see a gentle-looking man with a Dalmatian cross to them.

"Hey Archie," Henry said unenthusiastically, knowing his jig was up.

"Henry, whose this?" Archie eyed her wearily, and Emma breathed in relief. This man cared for the boy and would assist her in returning him to his parents.

"Just someone whose giving him a ride," Emma offered her hand cordially to the man.

"She's my mom!" Henry blurted, and Emma fought the urge to face palm herself. Her body jerked involuntarily at the title, and she shoved her hands into her back pockets sheepishly.

"Emma Swan," she offered. "Look, I just want to get the kid home. Can you tell me where he lives?" The dark glint in her eyes and the irritated edge to her voice told Archie not to push the subject of Henry's parentage.

"Dr. Archibald Hopper," he said and placed a hand on his chest and then pointed down the road. "Follow this street. The Mayor lives on Mifflin, biggest house on the street. You can't miss it," Archie deadpanned, his mind flying at the speed of light with unasked questions.

Emma slid behind the wheel without thanking the man and slammed the door. She just wanted to return to Boston, shoot up, enjoy her last haze and slip away into the nothingness. When she'd wished not to be alone, this wasn't exactly what she'd imagined, and it only reinforced her decision to end everything. Given the amount of psychological problems Henry clearly suffered from, she'd condemned her own child to the same fate she'd suffered. Who knew what he'd gone through.

"That's Archie. He doesn't know he's Jiminy Cricket," Henry chirped, clearly under the impression that Emma believed his fantastical notions. She closed her eyes and summoned her patience. It didn't work.

"You're the mayor's kid?" She sniped as she threw the shifter into first and took off with a skid on the wet street.

"Yes. She's The Evil Queen," he admitted hesitantly, only now picking up on his biological mother's worse than bad mood. Maybe she truly hadn't wanted him. He hung his head.

"Great," Emma muttered, oblivious to Henry's dejected face.

She only owed him a swift check of the situation and then her motherly obligations were done. He's lucky she hadn't slapped his ass on a bus and sent him off alone. She'd given him up for a reason, and if he wasn't in immediate danger, she was obligated by law to return home and forget the entire mess. She tightened her grip on the wheel and sighed. She prayed that his parents were good people, wished for one more miracle this night to be answered. If she stayed, she had a reason to live. If she stayed, she had one more person to save.

The last person she tried to save turned out so well, she thought bitterly and swallowed her tears of rage as she pulled up to a walk shrouded by large shrubs. It led to a gigantic white mansion with a modest balcony above the front door. Please be nice, she prayed and hated herself. She wanted her kid's parents to be everything she'd wished for because she wanted to shirk the responsibility of his care. If she cared, she stayed and lived and moved and breathed and pretended that she actually gave a shit. Damn it, Kid.

She adjusted her new red leather jacket when the door swung open, bracing herself for the backlash. A beautiful 30-something woman with short black hair, bright caramel eyes, and a wonderfully contrasting scar on her upper lip bolted down the sidewalk as fast as her five inch heels allowed. She'd not expected such a stunning woman at two in the morning. A scruffy-looking man hung back on the stoop, grinning ear to ear.

"Henry!" The woman called a moment before she collided into her son and draped her arms around him. "I was so worried. Don't ever run off like that again!" She chided breathlessly, and Emma knew the boy received no punishment for running away, not when his mother was obviously overwhelmed at having him in her arms again.

Emma wanted to smile. She clearly was his adoptive mother and she loved him, but the woman unnerved her instantly. She was torn between throwing herself into the emotional woman's arms and running away screaming. What the hell? Was she jealous of her son for finding a decent home? Was this some sort of transference thing? She shook her head, eyes wide, when the boy brushed past her and clamored up the stairs to the foyer and disappeared. He took his family for granted, and she wanted to slap the gap-toothed grin off his face.

"She's my real mom!" He yelled behind him before he disappeared. The woman's eyes widened with shock and fear and something a little darker that Emma couldn't quite place. Aaaaand that was the reaction she'd expected.

"I'll check on the lad," the man offered in a thick British accent and followed Henry up the grand staircase off to the left of the foyer.

"You're Henry's birth mother?" The woman all but snarled, and Emma felt certain that she'd be eaten alive… and she might have enjoyed it.

"Hi," she offered with a stupid smile on her face and a girlish lilt in her voice. The woman raised an eyebrow, and she cleared her throat. What the hell was that about?

"Emma Swan," she introduced herself and held out her hand. Please take it, Emma begged. Please don't shut me out, it's not my fault my kid's an idiot. A quick sigh pulled through her nostrils when the woman's incredibly soft and warm hand slid into hers. Had her hands always been so cold?

"Regina Mills," the deep, sensual timbre returned. "Thank you for bringing Henry home." She smiled, and Emma faltered. Regina Mills certainly knew how to cast a spell on unsuspecting folks. No wonder she was mayor.

"He seems like a great kid. Even with, you know, the fairy tale stuff. Look," Emma jerked her hand away, and Regina squinted at her suddenly empty hand as if she'd been unaware they'd maintained contact.

"I really need to get back. I… I don't want to be involved more than I am, so I should just…" She jerked her thumb over her shoulder and took three backward steps. Regina cocked her head to the side.

"Miss Swan?" Regina called sharply and clasped her hands in front of her. "After this evening's ordeal, I most certainly need a drink. Would you care for a glass of the best apple cider you've ever tasted?" The dark-haired woman offered, a hint of something in her voice that Emma tried and failed to decipher. Had Henry's mom just hit on her?

"Uhh, you know, I really should be… you know what, yes. Yes, I would love a glass of cider," Emma gave in, mostly due to her intrigue of one Regina Mills. It wasn't quite her birthday still, but she wasn't alone. She clenched her jaws, eyebrows raising at the revelation.

"Wonderful," Regina smiled and turned on her heel, expecting Emma to follow.

"Madame Mayor, your lad's just fine. Exhausted and already asleep, but fine," the man spoke and met her at the edge of her stoop. "If there's nothing else, I really need to do a patrol."

"Of course. Thank you, Sheriff," Regina said softly and touched his bicep. He smiled at Regina, tipped his head to Emma and sauntered down the walk.

"So, he's not Henry's father?" Emma asked, moving awkwardly behind the woman.

"Graham is a close family friend and the Sheriff of Storybrooke, nothing more," Regina explained cordially as she poured two tumblers of amber liquid.

Emma leaned against the wall and watched the other woman move around the room in her off-gold colored dress. She commanded attention, and Emma was powerless to resist that demand. Regina shoved a glass into her hand and squinted, studying Emma's face intently. They'd certainly met before, they sensed it somehow, but neither woman placed where. Perhaps the mayor was just as intrigued with her as she was the mayor.

"Follow me, please," she ordered, and Emma nearly spilled her drink in an effort to obey the demand.

Regina remained silent until the door of her private office closed behind her. She seemed tired, defeated. Apparently, the boy had been acting out for a while. Emma sat at the edge of the sofa, squeezed her glass, and studied Regina as she settled into the arm chair across the coffee table.

"So, how'd he find me?" Emma blurted. Regina sighed and sipped the harsh liquor. If this was her version of cider, Emma definitely wanted to experience her definition of hard liquor.

"I have no idea. He's quite clever and very intelligent for his age. He's been with me since three weeks old. I was under the impression that all of your information had been sealed and protected from this very occasion," Regina explained, half bitter and half proud of her son's obvious resourcefulness. She shook her head and cleared her throat, recovering instantly.

"You mentioned a moment ago that he spoke to you about fairy tales. What exactly did you mean, Miss Swan?" Regina asked carefully. It was Emma's turn to swig from her tumbler.

"I'm sure you know that he thinks everyone here is a character from his book. Like that guy Archie is supposed to be Jiminy Cricket. Why does he think you're The Evil Queen?" Emma blurted without thinking about the tactlessness of her question. Her face flushed immediately, and she swallowed another sip.

Regina clicked her tongue and downed the liquid in her glass. She sat the empty tumbler on the coffee table, leaned back and crossed her legs. She picked at a thumb nail anxiously before clasping her hands together.

"I'm a single mother, Miss Swan. I have been Mayor for many years now, and my time is limited. I fear I may have set a too rigorous and strict schedule for my son, and this is the result." She sighed, stood and paced to the small fire place.

Emma watched intently, intrigued further by every word that fell from those perfectly formed lips. Dark hair fell forward when Regina hung her head, shoulder muscles tight with tension. A deep breath swelled her back a moment before her shoulders fell loosely with the exhalation. Regina gathered herself and turned back to the perfect stranger in her study.

"I only wanted him to excel, to succeed. I knew the struggle he'd face with only one parent, much less one with a career demanding as much time as running an entire town. Dr. Hopper and I have been combining our efforts to lessen the strain and expectation of constant success that I've mistakenly placed on him," Regina finished, and Emma knew she spoke truthfully.

Her superpower kicked into overdrive, searching for any hint of an evil soul within the woman who stood patiently before her and confessed her sins as a mother. She only saw a woman who had wanted too much for a child she loved dearly. Emma gulped the rest of her drink and sat the tumbler onto the coffee table. The boy was an idiot and clearly hadn't needed her to save the day.

"I think I should go," she said abruptly and stood. Regina forced a smile that didn't reach her eyes. She wanted Emma to stay?

"Of course," she conceded and opened the door to the study. "Thank you again for bringing Henry home, Miss Swan. I'll trust that you will report any future contact to me." The skin around her eyes tightened slightly, and Emma nodded.

"Yeah, sure. Do you want my number, too?" She asked shyly and then added, "Just in case he runs off again. I can keep an eye out for him."

Regina's head snapped up from where she searched in her purse for her cell phone. Her eyes darkened with an unreadable emotion, and Emma froze. Regina shook her head and rolled her eyes at herself.

"Do forgive me, Miss Swan. It has been a very long day and an even longer night," Regina apologized and waved her cell phone in a dismissive gesture.

They exchanged numbers, and Emma tucked her phone into her jacket, leaving her hand wrapped loosely around it. She struggled for a way to say goodbye to Regina. She felt a natural connection to the woman. She wanted desperately to trust her, to know her. She nodded sadly and descended the steps of the foyer. It wasn't Regina she wanted. She grieved Casey's death and the son she'd abandoned nearly 11 years ago, and that desire for connection had transferred to the woman who had cared for the boy all those years. It meant nothing more than an affirmation of her own self-imposed solitude. Both Henry and Regina deserved more than her wrecking ball habit of walking in and out of lives.

"Miss Swan," Regina caught her attention and extended her hand again. "Thank you once more," she whispered. The words rasped against her throat in the hushed tone and slipped up Emma's spine. Of all the different tones she'd heard Regina use in the past ten minutes, she liked this particular tone most of all.

Emma's face tightened with the blaze of emotion Regina's rumbling cadence set alight in her chest. She nodded emphatically, afraid her voice would have failed her, and stalked down the sidewalk without taking the woman's hand a second time. It took every ounce of strength to drive away from the Mills' mansion. She made it through town and into the woods before her blurry vision forced her to pull onto the side of the road.

She hung her head, finally allowing the painful sobs to shake her bodily as they poured from her chest. She beat the steering wheel of her faithful bug with the sides of her fists. She may have been the only person in the world without love. She slumped over the wheel and caught her breath as her tears dried and a pleasant numbness settled into her chest.

When she pulled back, a bag of that cinnamon-colored addiction dangled from her fingertips. A sob that sounded like laughter bubbled from her chest. What difference would it make? A small amount now left her with plenty to complete her goal when she returned to Boston. She took a deep breath and pinched a tiny amount from the baggie, tapping her fingers on the side so it wouldn't drip all over her. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, sucking the powder into her nose.

It wasn't her preferred method of ingestion because it worked more slowly than injecting, but she'd thrown away all of her drug paraphernalia when she and Casey moved to Boston. She closed the bag and returned it to her bra, breathing deeply to ward off her approaching panic attack at what she'd just done. Three years of sweat and blood and sleepless nights swirled and gurgled down the drain of her life. What did it matter? She certainly had never mattered to anyone.

Tears slid down her face, and she hit the steering wheel one more time, disgusted with herself. She fucked up. She made the wrong decision. She'd never wanted to die but merely for the pain to stop. She floated between feeling nothing and extreme pain from one moment to the next, had been that way her entire life. No one loved her or wanted her. That same calm from hours ago seeped into her chest or was that the heroin? It mattered very little because she'd made the right decision. When she made it back to Boston, she determined to end the pain, end the emptiness.

"Damn it, Kid," she cursed Henry again, straightened her back and started the bug.

She squinted into the darkness and leaned towards the wheel as the drug haze fogged her mind. Had she taken that much or was the effect stronger because she'd not used in three years?

Was that a wolf?

Tires screeched when she jerked the wheel. The bug collided with something solid, and her head collided with the steering wheel. She fought the inevitable but ultimately failed to keep her eyes open. Henry's book of fairy tales on the floor of the passenger side caught her attention as her eyes slipped shut, sucking her into the oblivion of her high or maybe her head injury. It didn't matter. But it did. He'd wanted her to come back for him. She fucked up.

"Damn it, Kid," she whispered in a feeble attempt to remain conscious.


	3. Affinity

Can we all just take a moment and appreciate how fucking awesome my niece is going to be? Her ultrasound picture at 6 months shows her holding her fist in the air in a total Girl Power kind of way, and she kicks and punches the shit out of my sister-in-law when you turn on Bon Jovi (the good stuff from the 80's, not this weird pop shit he does now). SQUEE! I want her now. I can't wait another 3 months! I can't wait to meet this tiny human! *proud auntie rant over*

This chapter was insanely more difficult than it should have been for me considering the places I've gone before for stories. So, leave me some reviews. Let me know what you think so far!

Enjoy Lovelies!

Songs: Stand My Ground and Angels by Within Temptation, Stay by Miley Cyrus, Rescue Me by Kerrie Roberts

* * *

Emma groaned. A tiny little drummer pounded behind her eyes and slammed his cymbals together in her temple. One was from the heroin, the other from banging her head off something hard when she'd wrecked her car last night. She rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands and sat up slowly. Why was there whistling? Who was whistling? Her eyes flew open, and a hand slapped against her chest. The heroin was safely tucked away, despite the fact she had been locked in a cell.

A balding man with an unkempt beard leered at her from the other cell. Her nose wrinkled in disgust. She ignored him and massaged her throbbing scalp, letting the events of the previous evening flash through her mind. She'd taken a dose of heroin, nearly hit a wolf, and then crashed into the "Welcome to Storybrooke" sign. Shit, she was still in Maine.

"You look like hell, Sister. What'd you do?" The man asked and crossed his cell to the bars separating them. "Anything good?"

"Leroy," the sheriff called from across the small bullpen. "If I am to let you out, you must behave," he ordered lightly, a glint of amusement in his eyes. Emma liked him. He seemed kind.

Leroy held his tongue and scurried out of the station, not willing to test the sheriff's patience. The British man turned to Emma, shit-eating grin firmly in place, and cocked his hip like a cowboy. Emma squinted and stood. If he charged her for having one drink and searched her, she was screwed.

"We weren't properly introduced last night. I'm Sheriff Graham Hunter," he said and extended his hand through the bars.

"Do you always fraternize with your prisoners?" Emma groused and crossed her arms. She wanted to take his hand but hung back lest she seem to eager to flee her cell.

"Do you always insult people who save your life?" He countered easily and jingled the keys in the cell like a taunt. Emma rolled her eyes.

"You didn't save my life. You saved me from a night of sleeping in my car. I've been in far worst scrapes," Emma defended her pride and cocked her hip. She wanted to be irritated with the man and put on a good show, but secretly his boyish charm and playful eyes warmed her heart.

"Ahh yes, Regina's drinks are far stronger than you think. Always have been." One side of his mouth pulled into a smirk, telling her he'd tasted those drinks many times. Huh, was the sheriff just more than a family friend? Emma stepped forward and leaned her arms and chin on her bars, finally feeling as though she had something of use and tucking it away for later.

"I wasn't drunk." _I was high._ She confessed silently. "There was a wolf. The road was wet. I hydroplaned. Cite me for failure to maintain, charge me for the sign, and open the damn door." Emma challenged the man, and he sighed.

"Graham!" The frantic voice of Regina Mills echoed into the main office, and Emma recoiled, adrenaline shocking her heart into a frantic rhythm. Damn that voice.

"Henry's disappeared again!" She exclaimed as she rounded the corner and stopped suddenly.

"What the hell is she doing here?" She bit coldly, the gentle and exhausted woman from last night gone.

"There was an accident," Graham said absently as the mayor approached the cell with a predatory grace.

"Have you checked with his friends?" Emma offered. Kids always told their friends where they were going.

"He has no friends. He's a bit of a loner," Regina bit and stepped forward menacingly. Emma smelled the spicy hint of java on her breath.

"Every kid has friends," she defended her theory, eyes flicking to those damnable lips. Plum colored lipstick? It was odd, but it worked for the dark-haired mayor and it was damn sexy, too. What the fuck? Emma pulled back from the bars.

"Let me out," she pleaded with the sheriff. "I'll find the kid and we can just forget about my little accident. What do you say?" Emma negotiated with him, but his eyes turned to the mayor for approval.

"And what makes you think you know my son better than me?" It wasn't a question that dripped from those plum-shaded lips. It was a threat. Emma rolled her eyes at the pissing contest Regina started.

"Finding people is kind of what I do for a living. Let me try. Couldn't hurt, right?" Emma explained, not bothering to dignify Regina's threat with a response.

Graham made the decision without Regina, and the mayor stared at him with seething eyes and clenched teeth as he unlocked the door. She cleared her throat and zipped her jacket over her breasts, suddenly self-conscious of the illegal substance hidden there. Thank Victoria's Secret for nipple-concealing push-up padding or she'd have been discovered by now. Not only perfect for enhancing your assets but hiding them as well, she developed the slogan in her mind sardonically. Why hadn't she dumped this shit down the toilet yet?

"I need to look at his computer," she demanded. Regina huffed and crossed arms.

Emma ignored her and fell into step with Graham. This was what she did. She found people. This was her purpose, and maybe, just maybe, her son loved her in spite of all she'd done to push him away, to pawn him off on others. Was it possible for the love of a child powerful enough to transcend all of the evils the adults committed against him? She knew the answer, had done that exact thing many times with her abusive and neglectful foster parents. A child loved no matter what, and her son wanted her. He might have just saved her life.

The drive to the mansion was silent. Emma sat in the back seat of the cruiser with her elbow propped on the door and chewed her thumb nail. Her leg bounced up and down anxiously, but her eyes remained fixed and unmoving at the back of Regina's head. She'd missed much of the woman's personality last night, either from her shock at the surreal situation or the uncanny way the woman wormed into her heart.

She wanted to know Regina Mills in the worst possible way but questioned that desire until nothing made sense anymore. She grieved for Casey, and Regina reminded her of her deceased friend physically. They both had dark hair and eyes and a deep rumbling voice, though Casey's had been from smoking too many cigarettes. She seriously doubted prim and proper Mayor Mills had ever touched one, probably had some campaign in the war against tobacco. Still, Emma warred between opening up to the woman and pushing her away. Maybe they'd known each other in a past life.

She rolled her eyes and forced them to the passing scenery with a heavy sigh. She sounded like Casey spouting her twaddle about reincarnation and Nirvana and karma. Grief grabbed her heart painfully, knocking the air out of her with the tremendous force of the unseen blow to her chest. It waned as quickly as it swelled and dissipated into a dull throb in the back of her mind where it normally resided. She'd been grieving for Casey for three years and had learned over time how to control the uncomfortably sharp stabs that surfaced every so often.

Regina fidgeted the entire time. She led them to Henry's room, straightened a few items on the shelves, made his made and then remade it when it hadn't suited her the first time. Emma glanced around as the laptop booted and clicked to life. There were no pictures or posters, nothing indicating that her son played any sports. Just books, lots and lots of books. She smiled inside. She loved books, too.

"He deleted his browser history. Smart kid. I'm smarter," she commented absently, mostly to herself, but Graham answered.

"What's that?" He squatted and observed her work.

"This is a hard disk recovery key. Gets me where I need to go every time," she explained proudly. She had exactly two skills in this life, spotting liars and finding people, and she was damn good at both.

"Our methods are very different. I bet you could teach me a thing or two," Graham admitted, praise in his tone. Emma smirked. "I'm more of a pound the pavement sort of guy."

"Well, Sheriff, one has that luxury on a salary. I get paid for delivery," Emma jabbed at the man, but he only smiled wider and focused on the computer screen.

"Looks like he visited a site called . Cheeky bastard," Emma smiled. Regina gasped at the obscenity directed toward her son. Graham chuckled at the difference between the two mothers.

"Wow, it's expensive. He has a credit card?" Emma glanced up at Regina's still shocked face.

"He most certainly does not," Regina answered indignity and sniffed. Her curiosity, however, overcame her irritation, and she leaned over Emma's shoulder, squinting at the screen in confusion.

"Well, someone does," Emma countered and clicked on the details of the transaction. "Mary Margaret Blanchard. Who the hell is that?" She asked Graham, intentionally ignoring the distraught mother. Maybe if she pretended Regina never existed, she could shake her unnerving urge to be near the woman.

"Henry's teacher," Regina answered anyway, already out the door. Emma and Graham shared a look and scrambled after the huffy mayor. She liked the man, felt a sisterly affinity towards him, and he thought like she did, finding amusement in nearly every situation in order to protect himself from the seriousness of the situation.

They flew to the school, and Emma resumed her staring at the back of Regina's head and bouncing her foot. She needed to get her bug out of impound because she hated being chauffeured around and felt incomplete without the screaming metal death trap. Maybe she only hated being trapped so close to the complicated woman in front of her. She intentionally sat directly behind her to avoid staring at her profile from the driver's side of the back seat. Graham stopped in front of a large brick building, and Emma refocused her eyes.

"Thank you, Sheriff. Miss Swan and I will handle everything from here," Regina snipped as she exited the vehicle. The car rocked gently with the slamming door, and Emma jumped at the sudden loud noise.

"She's, uhh, a piece of work, isn't she?" Emma wondered aloud. Graham snorted and nodded.

Regina whirled a few steps from the cruiser, hair bouncing dramatically, and glared at Emma. The blonde flinched involuntarily and sheepishly followed the mayor into the crisp air of the Maine morning. She strode behind the woman, barely keeping up without jogging. How the hell did she walk so fast in 5 inch heels? Emma deciphered two strong emotions at the question. She was irritated at herself for falling behind and enamored with the complex woman she followed. They'd never be friends, she sensed that much, but that suspicion hadn't tamed the striking urge within Emma's heart to try.

She'd only felt this urge once before with Neal before he'd abandoned her to take the fall for his crime. Bastard. Her steps slowed to a saunter when Regina barreled into a classroom, presumably Miss Blanchard's. She hung back and observed the interaction.

The teacher had a cutesy pixie cut that seemed way too young for her full round face. She'd have appeared much more her age if she'd grown it out only a few more inches. She dressed modestly in a long pink skirt and sweater buttoned at her throat that suited a much older woman. Emma's brow wrinkled. Mary Margaret Blanchard was another mystery she intended to puzzle out at a later date. Emma shook herself at the thought, knowing she' d not be around long enough to befriend and decipher the naïve young woman.

Regina brushed past her, leaving a trail of books and papers on the floor in her wake. Emma let her go. She either waited for her or she didn't. She lost her ability to care, not when she constantly fought herself around the woman. Every street instinct she'd honed over the years told her to stay as far from the woman as possible, that more lurked beneath her impeccably polished clothes and cordial demeanor. Her heart on the other hand clenched and churned and jumped at any chance to wiggle further into the woman's mind.

Miss Blanchard smiled at her as they knelt to retrieve the fallen items. Emma faltered and nearly fell forward into the woman. Why the hell did she feel connected to every single person she met in this insane little town? She stood quickly and wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans. The teacher had obviously felt it, too. Her face openly expressed her emotions, unlike Regina's.

"Who are you?" She asked politely with curious eyes.

"I'm Emma Swan. I'm uhh, Henry's birth mother. He sort of showed up at my doorstep last night, apparently with the use of your credit card. Sorry about that. I'm sure Regi, uhh, Mayor Mills will pay you back." Emma babbled, unsure why she felt comfortable enough with this woman to spout at the mouth like a sprinkler.

"It's fine if she doesn't. Henry's a special boy. We've really connected during school this year," the other woman responded, seemingly unfazed by Emma's confession of her true identity. Maybe word had already spread around the small town… maybe this woman had given Henry her credit card after all. Emma smirked. All kids had friends.

"I'm beginning to see that. He's definitely too smart for his own good," Emma agreed and fell into step beside the gentle woman who also cared deeply for her son.

"Yes, he is very clever and resilient, but he also struggles emotionally and socially. He grapples with that profound question I imagine all foster children do: why would anyone give me up?" She froze as red colored her cheeks. Emma shoved her hands in her back pockets and squared her shoulders.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Emma. I wasn't thinking," the teacher gushed, and Emma shrugged, loving that Mary had used her first name.

"No, that's fair. I gave him up. The reason doesn't really matter when you're that age," she admitted quietly and shrugged again at the teacher's questioning eyes. "I grew up in the system, too." Why the hell hadn't her mouth stopped yet? She'd known this woman for two minutes, literally.

"So, the decision wasn't made lightly," Mary Margaret stated quietly, understanding and compassion in her eyes.

"Look, do you have any idea where he is?" Emma changed the subject abruptly. "I just want to find him and get him home and forget this ever happened. Regina Mills is a hard ass, but she cares about him and obviously wants him. It's more than I could have hoped for, and I think my being here is making things worst," she pleaded with the other woman who listened intently with sympathetic eyes.

"You should check his castle. Go to the docks and follow the shore towards the lighthouse. You can't miss it," she instructed, a glint of mischief in her tone and eyes. She'd totally known that Henry had taken her card and left Storybrooke.

"Thanks," Emma said as goodbye and squeezed the woman's shoulder. She shoved her hands into her leather jacket, shoulders tight with tension. She and Mary Margaret Blanchard might have been friends if the circumstances were different, in another world, another life.

Despite her urgency to return Henry to Regina and haul ass back to Boston, she ambled along the shore line, that old storybook tucked beneath her arm. The easy sounds and rocking motion of the waves soothed her frayed nerves and aching soul. She stopped for the longest time and stared into the deep cold waters. Her fingers moved without her knowledge and cradled the three bags on cinnamon colored addiction against her stomach. She drew her arm back, intending to dispose of them into the giant body of water before.

She stopped, mid-throw. What if they washed onto the shore and some kid found them? What if Henry found them and used it? She realized on some level that she rationalized her hesitation because she'd used last night and had grappled with the urge to use again today. If she threw it away, she sentenced herself to function without her safety net. She stamped her foot, crossed her arms, tucked the bags into her jacket pocket and zipped it shut. Later, she promised, once she'd found Henry but before she returned to Boston.

Tears tumbled onto her cheeks. She hadn't wanted to die, and Henry reminded her of the strength she held within, one that had pulled her through her life one breath at a time. The book dropped to the wet sand a moment before her knees. She wrapped her arms around herself, allowing the tears she'd been holding in for the past 24 hours to fall freely.

"Damn it, Kid," she whispered brokenly. "Damn it, Casey," she yelled into the ocean, letting her anger to overtake her pain. Her tears dried almost instantly.

Get up, she ordered herself. Pick up the book. Walk. One more step. One more. Go one more. Find Henry. One more step. Eventually, she found herself standing in front of an old wooden playground piece that had definitely seen better days. It trembled when she stepped onto the platform where Henry sat staring at the ocean.

"Hey Kid," she greeted somberly and placed the book in his lap. "Brought your ridiculous history book," she pointed at the book, a mocking edge in her voice.

"You don't have to be hostile. I know you like me. That's why you're here. I'm sorry you're in pain," he offered gently without looking at her. She took a deep breath.

"Henry, you have to stop running off. Your mom is worried sick. I know she'd strict, Buddy, but she doesn't seem like an evil queen to me," Emma reasoned with the boy, knowing how much worst his life might have been.

"Well, she is. I wish you'd believe me," Henry whined and sniffed. Emma melted. Even if Regina wanted him, he clearly felt a deep anguish that all foster children felt.

"Kid," Emma sighed and tossed an arm over his shoulders, jostling him slightly. "You'll be fine, okay. She loves you. You'll see that one day," she tried again. Her patience and resolve wore thin. She knew his pain, had run from it her entire life. She had no desire to watch her son go through it. He'd be fine.

"No she doesn't!" He exclaimed, shrugged out of her grasp, and slid from the castle. She jumped off after him. "You don't know what it's like with her!" He tossed over his shoulder, and Emma snapped.

She grabbed his shoulder and spun him to face her, hands tightly gripping his shoulders. Anger flared in her eyes, and she forced her fingers to loosen, released him, stepped back. Her control had slipped momentarily. She regained it even though her rage burned blue in her chest.

"No, Kid, you listen to me! You've got it good. You don't know what it's like. You have no idea what it feels like to have nowhere, no home, no mother, no family. I do. You want to know what's hard, having a family until you're three and then getting sent back because they had kids of their own. Even if you think that she doesn't love you, she wants you, which is more than I ever had. So you're going to go home and work through your issues with your mom and stop being ungrateful for what you have. Take comfort in the fact that someone wants you!"

She turned her back on the boy as tears spilled onto her cheeks. She covered her face with one hand and held the other to her stomach. Her heart hurt deeper than it ever had, and if he hadn't stood behind her, she would have snorted another dose of her very own pain remedy.

"I want you, Emma," he said quietly like he feared her rejection again and stepped into her line of sight meekly.

She broke, dropped to her knees and pulled him into her. His book fell from his grasp when he wrapped his little arms around her neck and held her to his shoulder. She cried harder.

"Please stay with me, Emma. Just a week. Can you stay a week?" He pleaded, and she melted. She needed him as much as he needed her. She pulled back and wiped at her face with one hand, the other on his shoulder.

"I'll think about, Kid. Okay?" She searched his eyes, and he nodded, knowing it was better than a flat-out dismissal of the idea. He was getting to her. She smiled sadly and handed him his book.

He tucked himself against her side and under her arm for the entire walk back to his house. It was a long, silent walk, and Emma's control returned along with her clear face in the 45 minutes it took them to reach his house. Regina must have watched out the window for any sign of him because the door flew open a few steps from the small stoop. Henry tensed, and Emma pushed him forward. He looked up at her for a moment and then scurried past his mother and bee lined for the stairs to his room.

"Thank you," Regina offered, her features relaxing with the comfort of having her son back once more.

Emma's entire body relaxed, and she sighed in relief, not having realized that she feared the mayor backlash. The softer, more exhausted woman from last night stood before her, and Emma felt that same connection swell in her chest. She smiled.

"Yesterday was my birthday," she started, and Regina cocked her head to the side at the odd statement. "I was in a really bad place because I'd just found out that my best friend passed away. I always saw her for my birthday. When I blew out the candle on this little cupcake I bought myself, I wished that I didn't have to be alone on my birthday, and Henry showed up. He sav…"

"Miss Swan," Regina cut her off, an eerie mixture of anger and something else in her eyes. Regina felt it, too? That strange connection. She fought it as hard as Emma.

"Do not mistake my gratitude as invitation back into Henry's life. You gave up that right when you tossed him away," Regina seethed, intentionally aiming the words at her heart. They pierced their target, and Emma's chest deflated as if the blow had been physical.

"My son is quite taken with you, but you are not his mother. In the last ten years while you've been partying your way from rehab center to rehab center, I've changed every diaper, soothed every fever, endured every tantrum, and put my son above every need and desire I've ever had." Regina paused for a breath and allowed the words to settle into Emma's mind.

"I'm… that's not…" Emma floundered for words.

"You don't get to speak!" Regina stepped into her personal space, menacingly, and Emma clamped her mouth shut. She hadn't realized how much she wanted Regina's approval until it was explicitly stated that she'd never have it.

"Your being here is making matters worst, and if it is the last thing I do, I will destroy anything that comes between my son and me. Including you, Miss Swan. Now, I suggest you get in your car and you get the hell out of my town. You have no idea what I'm capable of," Regina's tone surpassed threatening and slid into the area of making a vow.

Emma squinted. How could she have been so very wrong about Regina? Up to this point, she assumed the woman to be lonely in her ivory tower, isolated by everyone even her own son, a son she desperately loved. She'd longed so despairingly to win Regina's trust, her respect, perhaps even her friendship and love. She'd been in Storybrooke less than 24 hours, and Regina already ordered a background check on her. A woman who invaded her life in such a personal and uncaring way obviously had something to hide, things she feared would be her undoing. She used scare tactics to rid her of the one person who wasn't afraid of her and had the skill to uncover those very secrets.

"Do you love him?" Emma called after her before she shut the door. She whirled on Emma, glare in place.

"Of course I love him," Regina answered and slammed the door.

The moment the heavy wood obscured her from Emma Swan's vision, she leaned against it and pressed her hand to her chest. Her heart thumped furiously, something she'd not felt since she was a young woman foolishly in love with her stable boy. She hadn't an inkling why Henry's birth mother made her long hardened and nearly dead organ spark with life, but she determined in that moment that the woman must depart before both of her problems escalated into situations beyond her control.


	4. Naive Idiots

Hello, My Doves! I know the story has been a tad slow, but it should pick up now that it has taken off and I can break away from canon. Thank you for your patience. This first scene is just for you!

Enjoy Lovelies!

Songs: Nemo by Nightwish, Running up That Hill by Placebo and Rescue Me by Kerrie Roberts

* * *

_Emma swallowed the knot in her throat. A wave of dizziness washed over her mind and created a pleasant tingle in her limbs as she watched Regina settle her knees on either side of her waist and sit lightly on her hips. The pressure on Emma's already throbbing mound pulled a moan from her throat, hands reaching of their own volition for the woman atop her. Regina smiled wickedly as if she intentionally roused Emma's desire._

_Emma's fingertips hooked in the space between the buttons of her white dress shirt and pulled her forward. She obliged the other woman's desire to feel her, to kiss her. Regina held herself lightly on her elbows on either side of Emma's head. She brushed warm fingers through golden tresses and lowered her mouth to Emma's. They sighed into the first contact, adjusting to the new emotions and passions tearing their bodies apart from the inside out in a scorching explosion. _

_Emma pulled at the tucked shirt and slid her hands beneath the starched fabric. Touching Regina this way left her content and squirming at the same time. She'd only wanted to be close to the woman since meeting her, and reality far surpassed expectation. Regina pushed back on her arms, dragging her breasts and stomach over those beneath her, and then rolled her overheated center into Emma's. _

_Emma jerked involuntarily, displacing Regina's lips, as a short moan followed by a sharp breath pulled in her throat. Regina grinned, moved her lips to Emma's neck and started a gentle rocking motion. She hummed in pleasure when Emma rolled her hips upward to meet her halfway, increasing the pressure where it was desperately needed. _

_If she'd been naked, Regina felt certain she'd leave slick juice all over Emma's legs and lower stomach. She bit into Emma's neck at the thought, eliciting a gasp, and dull nails scraped the skin of her back. Those fingers disappeared from her skin and tugged at the buttons on her shirt, shaking with frenzied adrenaline and numbing endorphins. _

"_I thought you wanted me to leave," Emma said breathlessly. The warm body atop her vibrated with a chuckle but offered no other response._

_Emma stared into the darkness of the forest surrounding her bed. She remembered everything after she'd climbed into the bed but nothing before. It mattered very little, not when Regina's lips and tongue danced over her bare chest. Her hands gripped the short sweaty hair of the other woman and pulled her back and smashed their lips together. Nothing mattered but feeling Regina's skin against hers, beneath her hands, in her mouth, inside of her. _

"_Regina," she sighed into the mouth above hers. Her body burned beneath those soft hands, thighs sliding together, nipples rubbing painfully._

"_Emma, please," Regina whispered. Emma rolled her hips into her lover's and moaned. She'd never wanted anyone as much as she wanted Regina right now._

"_Tell me what you want," Emma commanded in a harsh whisper, fighting her own arousal in light of pleasing her partner. Why couldn't she breathe? _

_She gasped. _

_Regina chuckled maniacally as her hand tightened around Emma's throat painfully. Bright green eyes shot open, hands clawing. Regina straightened and sat on her hips, glee in her hateful eyes at Emma's obvious panic and discomfort. _

"_I want you to die, Emma Swan," she answered coldly, calmly, honestly. _

Emma jerked awake. Hair stuck to her face, matted by sweat. She touched her throat, closed her eyes against the harsh morning light, and tried to slow her breathing to normal. The dream freaked her out, disgusted her and aroused her all at the same time. She shifted her thighs, uncomfortable with the hot wetness she felt between her legs. She breathed deeply and fisted the covers in a white-knuckle grip meant to control them from finishing the job Regina had started in her dream.

Holy shit. She'd had a wet dream about her son's mother. She whimpered and squeezed her eyes shut more tightly. Not only had she dreamt about Regina, she now felt an almost uncontrollable urge to masturbate while thinking about her plum lipstick and deep rumbling voice. Fuck. She was screwed.

What the hell was that about? She'd never had a sex dream about a woman before, much less on that hated her guts and took pleasure in her emotional torture.

She rubbed her eyes and pressed the heels of her hands against her temples. Her head pounded from adrenaline and a heroin hangover. She rolled into the sunlight on the other side of the bed and forced her eyes open as the previous day flooded her senses. She'd fucked up again and took a modicum of comfort in the pain that exploded behind her eyes from the bright sun. She really needed to throw that shit out if yesterday set the tone for her relationship with Henry's adoptive mother.

Regina Mills conned her into a pissing match, and an innocent apple tree and Henry suffered for their arrogance. The kid refused to look at her when she'd gone to Archie's office to apologize and win him over again. She needed a game plan and fast if she wanted a reason to stay in Storybrooke. She sat up and stared over her shoulder at the hypodermic needle. She'd done it again. Three years of sobriety flushed down the toilet because she was too weak and too stupid to see the mayor's little game for what it was.

Her heart had nearly leapt with joy when Regina called yesterday evening. Finally, they'd made a step in the right direction, only to have it destroyed when Henry overheard their conversation. She'd set her up, and clearly had no reservations about using Henry as an emotional pawn in her sick game. Emma had done what she always did. She ran and she used and she swallowed the pain of Regina's betrayal. After years of surviving on her own with only her street smarts as a weapon, Emma continued to fall over and over for that same basic need to be loved. She wanted Regina's love… and apparently more than platonically.

With a groan, she pressed her hands into the bed to keep them from touching her body and hung her head between her shoulders. Her pity party lasted only a moment, however. The door swung open after a sharp knock and a call announcing housekeeping. Emma's eyes jerked to dark brown in shock and anger. Her heart pounded, increasing her headache exponentially, when she realized she'd been caught red-handed by the innkeeper's granddaughter. Shit. They'd toss her out on her head.

Ruby froze in the doorway, but it was too late. Those bright eyes darkened, blinked, fixed her with a hard glare and then flicked to the two and half baggies of heroin, lighter, spoon and needle on the night stand. Thankfully, she'd thrown away the cigarette butt she'd used as a filter after she injected herself with the morphine derivative. Damn it, Emma, she berated herself and tightened the sheet over her bare thighs.

Ruby stepped inside and shut the door slowly. Emma waited. She liked Ruby. She was shy and cocky and sexual and awkward all at the same time, and it endeared her to Emma. Not to mention, she was one of the few people who seemed arrogant enough to stand up to the mayor and befriend her.

"Emma," Ruby said gravely, her voice dropping an octave from its usual girlish and flirty lilt.

"I'll go, Ruby. Just don't say anything to anyone. Please," Emma begged and hung her head again, unable to take the disapproval in the girl's eyes.

"Emma," she repeated her name, much closer now.

Emma opened her eyes to find deep pools of milk chocolate brown staring up at her from a kneeling position on the floor. Had it been a normal situation, Emma might have felt self-conscious at being so close to a stranger in only her underwear and a tank top, but nothing about Storybrooke struck her as normal. Tears shimmered in the waitress' eyes, and she blinked them away.

"I won't say anything," she promised and gently took each of Emma's arms and studied them carefully. She checked her hands and her feet, seeming confused by the lack of marks.

"You only have one needle mark," she stated, more to herself as she thought out loud than to Emma, but the blonde answered anyway.

"I haven't used in a long time," she admitted quietly. Ruby's big eyes searched hers, looking for the truth.

"How long?" Ruby prodded gently. She understood substance abuse, had struggled with alcohol for years. She never remembered why she'd begun drinking and realized that she probably hadn't wanted to remember. A person self-medicated when they wanted to rid themselves of pain, escape reality, and if the papers were true, Emma Swan had more reasons than most.

"Three years," Emma answered. If Ruby kept her mouth shut about what she saw, Emma at least owed her the truth of her situation. "I've bought a bag every year on my birthday. Three bags for three years in Boston."

"Emma, this is fucked up. Do you want me to take it? I'll throw it out," Ruby asked lightly, but her doe eyes pleaded with Emma. There was something there that Emma couldn't quite decipher, but she suspected that Ruby might have had as difficult a time as she throwing out the drugs. The heroin addict starter kit probably would have been tossed in a drawer and kept just in case.

"I'm not an addict. An alcoholic, maybe, but this isn't my scene, Emma. Let me help you," Ruby tried again. Emma took a breath and shook her head.

"I need to do this on my own, Ruby," Emma rationalized, and Ruby's jaw tightened and eyes lowered. She knew Emma's answer was bullshit.

"What made you decide to use it?" She asked suddenly and moved to the bed.

She sat close enough that Emma felt the heat radiating from her shoulder and thigh but not quite touching. Emma's muscles coiled with tension at the gesture of friendship. She sighed. If she opened this can of worms, she knew she'd leave the room in tears, but Ruby made a point. If she had talked about her triggers, maybe she'd have let it go sooner.

"My best friend. My only friend. Not even a friend really, just someone I used to know well," Emma started and scrubbed her hands over her face when nothing made sense even to her. Ruby covered her hand when it returned to her bare thigh. It was the smallest show of support, but it was enough.

"I met her in prison 11 years ago. We traveled together until we moved to Boston. Her family lives there. She wanted to go home, and I didn't really care where we went. When the drugs got out of control again, we moved and went to a new rehab center. It worked for a while, but something always set one of us off and we started using again." Emma took a breath and Ruby squeezed her hand lightly.

"When we went to Boston, it was the same routine, except her family actually runs a fucking heroin ring. I knew that we either needed to leave Boston, or I had to leave Casey. She was all I had, you know," Emma asked, insecurity in her voice. Ruby nodded, compassion in her eyes, but remained blissfully silent. Emma tried to smile at the girl. She put on a good show, but secretly Ruby Lucas was just as lost and scared and insecure as every other woman on the planet who had ever been wronged or felt deep seeded pain that never went away and rarely lessened.

"She made me choose. I chose me," Emma whined as her voice cracked. She lowered her head and rubbed her eyes with a thumb and forefinger. Ruby remained still and silent, sensing Emma probably would have shut down if she reminded her that she was there.

"She overdosed," Emma forced out before her throat closed up completely. "She died," she confessed, unsure if it was loud enough for Ruby to hear, but it mattered very little. Emma vented her grief, released the rage and helplessness, and that was the important part

"I found out about an hour before Henry showed up at my door," she finished and dropped her head. She'd expected tears or screaming or some sort of dramatic catharsis, but she only felt empty, numb.

"I'm so sorry, Emma," Ruby offered as well as a sideways hug.

Emma turned and gave herself bodily to the younger woman's warm embrace. Everything about this moment felt inappropriate to Emma. She barely knew Ruby, and the girl certainly felt the burden of her grief. That wasn't fair. Yet, she rubbed her hand slowly over Emma's back, soothing her in the only way she knew how. There was no awkward tension that told Emma her comforter wanted to move away and pretend she'd never spoken with her. Ruby genuinely cared, perhaps not about her as a person quite yet because they hadn't known each other long enough for that connection, but she definitely felt compelled to alleviate human suffering. It spoke volumes about the rebellious girl. She held on until Emma decided to pull back.

"I'm sorry, Ruby. I'm not usually a complete nutcase. Everything just came down at once, and I haven't had a chance to process anything. I just keep reacting to shit the best I can. So, I'm not quite ready to let go of… _it_ yet because it's sort of like…" Emma waved her hand, searching for the words.

"Letting go of her," Ruby finished as a statement, not a question. Emma dropped her hand and nodded.

"I understand, and now I want you to understand something. If you start losing control, and trust me, I will know. I hear everything that goes on in this town because everyone is too busy looking at my ass instead of paying attention to which direction my ears are pointed. You need dirt or gossip or the latest cover-up, I'm your girl," Ruby grinned proudly and then sobered.

"I will intervene, Emma. Everyone in this town loves Henry, and I will not let him be hurt by both of his mothers," Ruby vowed, and Emma's heart sang. She officially considered Ruby Lucas a friend.

"I like you, a lot. You seem like a good person whose been dealt a really shitty hand, Emma, but don't underestimate me. If you won't listen to me when I say enough is enough, I won't hesitate to report you to Graham. I'm serious. Henry is like a little brother or a cousin or whatever. He's family to me and Granny, and I will protect what I love no matter the cost. Are you understanding me?" Ruby fixed her with a hard stare, and Emma had no doubt she meant every single word. Huh, sweet and awkward Ruby Lucas had teeth. Who knew?

"I'm picking up what you're laying down, Rubes," Emma muttered, half a smile on her lips, and bumped her shoulder into Ruby's. "I'm relieved, actually. It's good to know that Henry has more than me in his corner. What is her deal, anyway?" Emma blurted, face tightening with the memory of yesterday's events. She'd actually cut into an apple tree with a chainsaw because Regina Mills pissed her off by reporting her drug addiction to the editor of _The Dailey Mirror_. What the hell was that about? What kind of person divulged that kind of information without permission? Some folks probably thought it a sham, but this was a small town. In small towns, the newspaper read like the freaking gospel.

"I have no idea. She's always been this way as long as I can remember. Sometimes when she thinks no one is looking, she stares at a ring. It looks like a wedding band, like an antique one. She loves Henry. In fact, he might be the only thing she loves. As you can see, she's not very good at it, but I see it in her eyes when she looks at him or talks about him. It's there, just hidden beneath layers of bitchiness and death threats. Other than that, she's a closed book. She's a very complicated woman," Ruby finished with slumped shoulders.

She was the first person who had been able to give her any information about Regina that wasn't based in negative opinion, just an objective observation of behavior and personality. There was more to Ruby than met the eye, Emma knew it for certain now. She really liked the young waitress. She took a breath to tell the other woman just that when a knock at the door interrupted her thought process. She rolled her eyes and stood, crossing swiftly to the door.

"Emma!" Ruby whispered harshly and stretched across the bed. Emma paused long enough for the her to swipe the evidence of her late night activities into the drawer of the night stand and then jerked the door open, uncaring that she wore nothing but a tank top and red panties. Ruby propped her head in her hand, as if she'd only been casually lounging on the bed.

"Miss Swan," Regina snipped, but her eyes widened in surprise at her state of dress and then flicked to Ruby on the bed. "How nice to add promiscuity to your repertoire," she grated bitterly, shoulders coiling instantly with tension.

"Care to join, Madame Mayor. Someone wound as tight as you is practically begging to be rode hard and put away wet," Emma poked at the uptight woman with a raised eyebrow and cocky smirk. Her arousal from earlier still throbbed between her legs, and rapidly increased with each moment Regina stood before her.

Regina inhaled sharply at the offer, eyes going blank. Emma swallowed, hoping the clenching muscles in her lower abdomen wasn't visible to her visitor. What in the actual hell had this woman done to her? Everything about Regina Mills inspired rebellion and an overwhelming desire to push the woman's buttons just to watch her flare and flash. She cleared her throat when she noticed Graham and Mrs. Lucas staring with slack jaws just behind Regina.

"Sheriff, Mrs. Lucas," she greet cordially, flush seeping into her neck and chest. She squinted at Regina when she recovered her dignity.

"What the hell is going on?" Emma demanded and cocked her hip, wishing she'd bothered putting her jeans and boots on first. The stance was much more effective when she wasn't presenting her bits to the world.

"Ruby! Get out here!" Granny barked, clearly convinced that Regina's assumption was the correct one. Emma rolled her eyes again. Ruby moved as far as Emma's shoulder and waited until Regina spoke her purpose for the early morning visit.

"Miss Swan, according to city ordinance, no known felons may reside longer than one night at the inn. You've been here for two, which means you have officially broken the law. If you resist, I'm afraid I'll have to charge Mrs. Lucas and her granddaughter with the violation as well. No jail time or community service for them, though quite a hefty fine," Regina leaned closer and whispered the last part. Emma gritted her teeth.

"That is such a bullshit law! Seriously, this is how you want to play this?" Emma seethed, but Granny's pleading eyes stared at her from behind the mayor. She'd seen the fear in Granny's eyes when Gold collected his rent money. They couldn't have afforded another expense if their lives depended on it.

"Fine. Leave them alone," Emma gave up and held her wrists out to Graham who glanced at the mayor in irritation and then snapped the cuffs loosely. She probably could have slid out of them if she'd tried.

"Emma, I'll pack up your stuff and hold it downstairs for you," Ruby assured and touched her shoulder. Granny glared hard at Emma; Regina gritted her teeth. Good grief, they all truly believed that she'd fucked Ruby. Emma sighed. She couldn't have cared less what people thought of her, but the other woman already caught enough flak for her blatant displays of sexuality. The last thing she needed was a front page spread about her associations with a known criminal.

"Can I put my pants on?" Emma asked, eyes glued to Regina's, eyebrow raising again in flirtation. Damn it, she could not help herself. Regina waved her hand and looked away.

Emma shimmied into the skinny jeans hanging on the back of the chair at the small table. Hadn't she kicked them off on the floor? A brown file caught her attention, and she froze. What the hell was that? Someone had been in her room last night after she'd gone to bed. Someone else knew that she'd shot up last night. Her green eyes jerked to Regina's caramel. The mayor smiled knowingly, smugly, as the realization settling into Emma. She was being set up in the worst way, and now Regina knew that she'd begun using again. Damn it, Emma, she yelled silently for the second time that morning.

How had she even gotten into her room? She had only dreamed that Regina had kissed her and then strangled her, right? Emma shifted uncomfortably with the thought that Regina may have taken advantage of her during a drug-induced haze. Surely that was a line even Regina Mills refused to cross. Emma's chest heaved with just the thought of the violation and wrestled with the urge to cross her arms protectively over her chest. What the hell was going on in this insane town and when was she going to wake up from this nightmare?

"What is that, Miss Swan, and why do I feel as though you'll be charge for more than a misdemeanor?" Regina saucily, playing the part perfectly. Her tone sounded confused, but her face told Emma that she knew exactly what that file contained and precisely how it found its way to her hotel room.

"You have got to be kidding me," Emma deadpanned. Regina smiled as she crossed the room and snatched the file. Her face hardened, and Emma floundered.

"Sheriff, please take this woman into custody and contact Dr. Hopper as soon as she has been processed. Henry's file was stolen from his office and somehow managed to find its way to Miss Swan's hotel room. I'm not a cop or a criminal, but I presume you identify this with the colloquialism 'hard evidence.'"

"Oh you're good," Emma complimented, knowing a better player when she saw one. "Is this about your tree? You were more upset about your damn apples than you were when you destroyed my son's faith in me. What does that say about you, Madame Mayor?" Emma seethed, inches from the woman's face.

"That you are going to jail, and I am going to pick my son up early from school for ice cream before I tell him exactly what kind of person his birth mother is," Regina threatened coldly, her deep rumbling timbre inspiring goose bumps on Emma's arms. Where the feeling of that voice against her skin had previously aroused and sensitized her, today it made her nauseous.

"You have no soul," Emma spat. "How the hell did you get like this?" She asked seriously, wanting Regina to give an answer, even a bullshit one. The dark woman looked shock for a moment, but then she smiled, tilted her head as she studied Emma's green eyes, and clicked from the room with a driving purpose. Shit.

"You all do know that I'm being set up, right?" Emma waved her cuffed hands emphatically at Regina's back. Graham hung his head, held the file in one hand and Emma's arm in the other. He waited until she slipped into her boots and then pulled her towards the door.

"We know, Emma," Ruby offered and touched her shoulder as she passed.

Graham dragged her to the station and begrudgingly followed proper booking procedure. The situation troubled him far more than he cared to admit, knowing that he was powerless to stop the mayor's despotism.

"You know this is bullshit, Graham," Emma reasoned as he took her picture. Her shock had worn off during the short walk to the station, and anger now burned in her chest.

"I told you that I'd confirm the theft with Dr. Hopper before officially charging you. As for the other, it's a small fine. I'll talk to the magistrate, maybe some community service instead, but I can't do anything about theft. If Archie presses charges, my hands are tied," Graham explained lightheartedly. He was trying to make her feel better, reassure her that it wasn't a completely hopeless situation.

"Which we all know that he will because she has everyone in this damn town scared. And those who aren't afraid are paid to shut up or threatened, blackmailed. How the hell did she get elected anyway?" Emma vented, allowing layer after layer of Regina's sick plot to peel back in her mind. How had she not seen this coming?

"Let me get this straight. Turn to the left, please," he instructed absently and fiddled with the camera. "Not only did Mayor Mills frame you, but she is also blackmailing Dr. Hopped in order to force him to corroborate the fact that you stole a file from his office?" Graham clarified sardonically.

"Yes! Come on, Graham, I can't make this shit up. It's too fantastical," Emma defended herself, but she admitted silently that the theory made her sound paranoid and slightly insane. If one of her marks had spouted this bull crap at her, she'd have laughed in his or her face.

"And I am expected to believe this, despite the fact that you had motive and opportunity, not to mention a particular set of skills that make slipping in and out of places to illegally obtain information about a particular person," he spoke of her talent with reverence but spread his arms like a high school student saying 'Come at me bro.'

"So, you believe without a doubt that she is capable of this?" Emma countered, and his charming grin faltered.

"Emma!" Henry's excited voice saved him from answering, and she turned towards the door. "You're brilliant!" He praised and slammed into her stomach in an aggressive display of affection.

"Uhhh, thanks, Kid?" She responded, eyes narrowed in confusion as Mary Margaret and Ruby trouped in at much more controlled pace. Ruby grinned brightly.

"Ruby called Mary Margaret and told her what happened. Don't worry, they explained everything. What you said, it was what you-know-who needed to hear. And taking my file? Awesome idea! Gathering intel for Operation Cobra! Right?" He stopped to breathe, and Emma hugged him tighter.

"Yeah, Kid. I laid a false trail," Emma followed the theory shakily and smiled at the two women who might actually have become her friends. They'd saved her relationship with Henry before it was destroyed. Her face softened with emotion.

"Operation Cobra?" Graham asked and scratched the back of his head.

"It's need to know, Sheriff," Henry explained pompously and stepped back from his birth mother. "And all you need to know is that Miss Blanchard is here to bail her out." He beamed at his teacher who offered a warm smile in return.

"Seriously? Why?" Emma blurted.

"Because I, uhh, trust you," Mary Margaret said, as confused by the strange connection as Emma.

"Henry, do me a favor?" He nodded enthusiastically at his birth mother. "Will you go wait outside? I need to talk to Ruby and Miss Blanchard for a minute," she explained. He looked between the three women, shrugged and trudged outside.

"You know this is going to make you a target," Emma said after Henry disappeared. "Are you absolutely sure?"

"I'm already a target because I gave him the book, and he took my credit card in order to find you. I don't suppose things can get much worst," Mary Margaret said with a shrug and a smile.

"I just don't like the bitch," Ruby spat. "What's she going to do to me? I don't have anything to lose but a little sleep. She won't touch the diner because Mr. Gold technically owns it, so Granny will be fine," she elaborated with a shrug and a smile much like Mary Margaret's.

Emma's own smile grew. She held eye contact with the two women as she lifted her hands up to Graham, indicating her approval of the situation and her desire to be free of her shackles. The man sighed, shook his head and released her with a grin. Finally, someone stepped up and shot down Regina's tyrannical methods. He couldn't actively support it, but he approved.

"I'm afraid you'll need a physical address in order to make bail. You can't stay at Granny's. Perhaps Miss Blanchard has a couch you can sleep on, or a floor, somewhere other than your car," Graham droned on until his joke became awkward, and Emma smiled at his oafishness. He was a good man.

"That will be fine. I have a spare room that you are welcome to use, Emma," the teacher offered graciously without a hint of reservation. Maybe she was as lonely as Emma and simply needed a friend; maybe Ruby was, too. Maybe they were both naïve idiots. She could have been an ax murderer for all they knew!

Emma wasn't thrilled with the arrangement, but it beat sitting in a jail cell for weeks until her case came up on the docket. Hopefully by then, she'd have sorted everything with Archie and figure out a plan for Regina. Looks like Storybrooke got to keep her just a little bit longer. Emma smiled.


	5. Unstoppable

Hello Doves! I'm so incredibly happy with my decision to do both prequel and sequel at the same time. It has definitely breathed new life into this for me, and I do hope you agree and love this chapter as much as I do.

Enjoy Lovelies!

Songs: Get Well by Icon for Hire, I'm Only Human by Christina Perri, Don't Deserve You by Plumb

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The week after Emma's arrest passed without incident at least in regards to Henry's birth mother. Plenty had happened. Emma defied Gold and then made a deal with the devil in order to help Cinderella keep her baby. Mary Margaret jumped on bored with Henry's fairy tale plot, at least enough to wake Prince Charming from his coma. The more Emma believed, the weaker the curse became. Perhaps the more she cared for the other woman, the lesser her resolve to keep everyone trapped became. She sighed. At least they'd reached a shaky truce.

Emma hadn't retaliated, and Regina found herself too exhausted to plot another attack. She liked the woman, no matter how fervently she denied it to herself. Her heart swelled in her presence, and at night she dreamed about that same heart being ripped out and crushed to dust by the same beautiful woman with the wild blonde hair. Emma Swan intended to be her undoing, whether she realized it or not. Given Emma's childish and broken nature, Regina sincerely doubted she noticed the enchantment she'd cast on the mayor.

Regina sighed and poured a cup of coffee, resigning herself to thoughts of Emma. Dawn had barely broken, a small relief that she'd woken extra early. She normally rose an hour before Henry and plied herself with caffeine in order to keep up with his abundance of energy. She despised mornings, but today, she was grateful for the extra alone time. She realized the moment she woke that she'd spend it ruminating about Emma Swan and her connection with everyone in Storybrooke. Her worst nightmare had shown up on her doorstep, and she was torn between hating her and strengthening the their affinity for one another.

If she allowed her into their lives, Emma might have taken Henry from her completely. If she pushed her away, Regina knew her heart would be hardened once more. It was uncomfortable, feeling it pulse and swell with affection, but the unexpected reaction to the cocky blonde also comforted her. She'd spent the last 28 years learning how to be - well not good, but perhaps figuring out how to be not evil. Snow may have coined the term, but that hadn't made it less true. She had been evil and committed unspeakable acts of torture and violence, and now she wanted to learn how to be good, to love. Or at least she had until Emma Swan made her feel something again.

She slammed her hand on the cool marble, frustrated with her circular thoughts. Did she want to kill Emma or kiss her? Both, she realized and dropped her head back to her hand. Either way, a decision needed to be made before everything fell apart. Clearly, Emma intended to fight her every step of the way. Regina sighed and refilled her cup. She might as well kill her because Emma Swan, like everyone else in her life, would never have loved her, especially when the truth came out.

Despite her best efforts, Emma remained in Storybrooke and wiggled a little further in between Henry and her every day. A normal person might have run for the hills by now, changed her name and hair color in attempt to disappear, but not Emma Swan. The woman was broken, perhaps beyond repair, but she somehow mustered a resilient strength and walked proudly, head high, arrogant swagger in her hips.

It was a strength Regina had never seen before, not from one without magic or status or power or wealth. That type of strength spawned from arrogance and entitlement and usually waned over time, but Emma Swan's resilience rolled off of her in waves, infecting everyone within arm's length, especially Ruby Lucas.

Emma and the waitress had fallen into a disturbing pattern in the past seven days. Sydney proved useful as her eyes and ears when she was unable to check up on Emma and her activities. She told herself that she wanted to know Emma's whereabouts at all times in order to protect Henry. She almost believed that lie, too, but in the back of her mind, a voice whispered that she simply wanted to know the other woman.

She sipped her black coffee and adjusted her head in her hand. She felt guilty for invading Emma's privacy, and if she were honest, she felt like a stalker. She knew that Emma met Ruby for coffee around seven in the morning and then walked Henry to his bus stop. Her son was so happy with her, constantly laughing and smiling and chattering about something called Operation Cobra. The rest of her day went to helping whatever desperate citizen came begging first. Her people instantly loved Emma, a feat she hadn't accomplished in 28 years of the curse and having everyone's will and whim at her fingertips.

They never loved her and never would. She sighed and grappled with her daily battle since Emma's arrival. Should she reveal Emma's secret? She hadn't even told Sydney that Henry's birth mother had begun using drugs again, scared that he'd get carried away in his enthusiasm to please her and run a story on it before obtaining her approval. He was annoying but so unwaveringly useful in his loyalty and love for her. People like him made her sick, blindly following and never asking why.

But she knew Emma's secret, now. Emma was without doubt using on a daily basis. Every night she stumbled to the diner and met Ruby at the back door. They sat on the step and talked for hours while Emma floated on her high and Ruby tossed back enough shots to drown a cow. They appeared awkward and shy in the photographs taken the first few nights, but each night they moved closer. Two days ago, Ruby leaned into Emma and kissed her cheek, and last night Emma rested her head on Ruby's shoulder for nearly the entire duration of their meeting. They had found in each other what they'd been searching for, a friend, support, acceptance, love.

Regina sighed and gripped the half-empty mug tightly. She might have had that with Emma if she had refrained from drawing battle lines because she felt threatened. Regina sighed deeply once more, pulled her spine straight, and forced the self-pitying thought from her mind. She had resigned herself to a friendless, loveless life a long time ago. Now, she had only one goal, protecting Henry.

"Henry?" Regina called softly halfway up the staircase. It was early still, but she wanted to see him, feel him, hear his voice even if it said horrible things to her.

She cracked the bedroom door and smiled at her son. A leg rested atop the comforter. One hand thrown above his head. She stepped into the room but stopped short of waking him when a sound of an explosion boomed in the distance and a faint tremor shook the house. It felt and sounded like a bomb had gone off in town. She jumped to action, leaving her son to slumber. She was already dressed and starting her Mercedes by the time the first call ever vibrated her cell phone. Graham.

"Sheriff, I'm on my way. What's happened?" Regina demanded, pausing long enough for Graham to fill her in and then steered her car towards the old mines. It was going to be a long day.

And a long day it was. The entire work day and half the evening became devoted to developing strategic action and plans for first dealing with the safety hazard and then creating something useful and aesthetically pleasing once the area was paved. During that time, she fought twice with Graham about his faith in Emma in regards to her new position as deputy, once with Dr. Hopper about Henry's treatment, and as often as possible with Emma about anything and everything she found worthy of nitpicking.

She had started this day exhausted and emotionally compromised, and by the time Henry tossed a tantrum about leaving Emma to come home and go to bed, she had nothing left to offer. She snapped. Tomorrow she apologized and asked forgiveness. Tonight she downed two tumblers of her apple cider and fell into her bed before changing out of her clothes.

Surprisingly, her sleep remained dreamless and if the shrill ring of her cell phone hadn't woken her, she may have even considered it a peaceful morning. She groaned when Emma's name popped up on the screen and cleared her throat.

"What is it, Miss Swan?" She rasped, rubbing her forehead.

"It's Henry. He went into the mine," Emma said evenly, but Regina heard the tight fear at the back of Emma's throat. She was scared. It was bad.

"I'll be there in five minutes," Regina said and hung up. She changed clothes and returned to the mine, not bothering with makeup or even brushing her hair and teeth. Her son was in danger, which meant the town was lucky that she'd bothered changing clothes.

"Madame Mayor!" Emma called to her and pushed her way through the crowd.

"What the hell happened?" Regina demanded, and nearly everyone but Emma pressed away from her ire.

"Answer that question yourself," Emma accused and jerked on her arm, leading her towards the edge of the bank leading to the mine entrance.

"Deputy Swan, you'd better damn well explain yourself and fast," Regina threatened but remained within Emma's grasp.

"What did you say to Archie? Henry had a session before school. Mary Margaret called me when he didn't show up. Archie thought he'd come here, and he did. Now they're both trapped!" Emma's voice rose with her anger, and she flung a shaking finger towards the blocked mine entrance.

"He's trapped?" Any rebuke Regina had silently prepared died on her lips with the new knowledge.

She pressed closer to Emma, needing the other woman's warmth and strength. Her heart fluttered, and the mine groaned and shifted, roaring as it crumbled, confessing her heart's growth. She jerked back, and Emma let her go.

"Stop! Stop now!" She yelled at the rescue team pulling rocks and debris from the entrance of the mine.

She nearly toppled over the bank, and Emma pulled her back with a quick hand on her shoulder. Regina spun into the muscular sheriff with a surprised squeak, hands finding Emma's waist naturally as she regained her balance. Emma's bright green eyes widened, chest moving erratically in their new position. She squeezed Regina's shoulders and simply stared down at the older woman staring up at her with the same confused and slightly horrified expression.

"Regina," she whispered, aware of the prying eyes of the crowd watching the interaction. "What do you want me to do?" Emma begged, pleading with the other woman who seemed to have an answer for everything.

"Punch through the ground. An explosion, perhaps. If it is concentrated at the entrance, it may leave the rest of the mine intact and open a passage," Regina answered in a tight, rumbling whisper. Emma felt her breath on her face as she spoke and shivered. What the hell kind of spell had this woman cast on her?

"I'll talk to Marco," she answered and stepped away, turning her back immediately.

Regina stared after the new deputy, wondering the same things as Emma. Had they met before? They certainly felt connected on a deeper level than their shared love for Henry. She remained silent, eyes glued to Emma Swan as she worked in that ridiculous red leather jacket. Was she making a statement or completely oblivious to its hideousness? She might have been the mayor, but right now she was nothing more than a terrified mother and recognized her uselessness.

Once the explosives were set, Emma returned to her side and crouched behind the cruiser. Everyone's eyes were on the entrance of the mine, and Emma set a trembling hand on her lower back. It was a gesture far more intimate than what was acceptable, and Regina glared at her, softening when she saw the same fear in Emma's green eyes. Emma reached out to her? Shouldn't she be tucked against Ruby's shapely side for comfort? Hesitantly, she touched Emma's bent knee with her fingertips, imagining the show of comfort and affection to be awkward. When it surprisingly wasn't, she slid her palm onto the muscles above Emma's knee and squeezed lightly. Their eyes remained intensely connected as they both struggled to understand their bizarre affinity.

Regina flinched at the loud boom, and Emma squeezed her shoulder before as she took off towards the entrance of the mine.

"It's open! It worked!" Emma hollered from beyond the veil of smoke and dust. "I need a hard hat and a flash light! Rope, someone get me rope!" Emma sprinted straight up the hill and skidded to a stop in front of Marco who snapped a utility belt around her waist, containing the items she needed.

"I'm going with Emma," Regina announced, a hint of a dare in her voice.

"No offense, Madame Mayor, but you've been sitting behind a desk for at least ten years. What help could you possibly be?" Emma pointed out as Graham strapped her into a climbing harness, just in case the tunnel inside collapsed and she needed to repel down.

"Emma this is search only. Understand?" Graham ordered, also ignoring Regina who stubbornly clipped the utility belt meant for Graham around her hips and adjusted it to fight snugly without limiting mobility.

"Really, Madame Mayor? You're wasting time!" Emma screamed at the dark woman only inches from her face, and the crowd went silent.

"He's my son. If I slow you down, bash my head with a rock and pick me up on your way out," Regina returned coolly, her voice deep and calm and creepy.

"How 'bout I get that out of the way now?" Emma threatened in the same tone and pulled the heavy black mag light from her belt. Graham caught her arm mid-swing and jerked her towards the bank. She tripped over the side and slid down on her hip, cursing that her red leather jacket took the brunt of the fall.

"Fuck you, Graham!" She called up and shook the gravel and shell out of her jacket sleeves and pant legs.

"Madame Mayor, would you care for the same treatment or can you be civil?" Graham asked, his tone telling her that he intended to repeat the action if she misbehaved.

"I'll be civil… for my son's sake," she replied and moved gracefully down the slippery bank to Emma's side. She lost her footing at the bottom, and Emma caught her with one arm before she face planted into the ground.

"Really?" Emma called up to Graham sarcastically, and he shrugged with a boyish smirk on his face. He, along with everyone else, was curious to see how this turned out. They had a common goal, and if they failed to formulate a truce in order to save Henry, then they probably never would. He hoped for Henry's sake that he'd made the right decision.

Emma stomped towards the entrance, Regina a step behind, and disappeared from sight in the dust and smoke that billowed from the mine. When Emma felt certain the cloud obscured them from the prying eyes of the townsfolk, she stopped and turned to Regina.

"Madame Mayor, I need you to hold my hand," she whispered, and Regina's head jerked at the odd request. Emma rolled her eyes.

"I don't want us to lose each other in the smoke. If it comes to a point where we need both hands, I'll attach a rope. From what I saw, we won't need that, but I don't know how far the smoke goes into the mine. It will just waste more time to stop. Now take my fucking hand before I come at you with the flashlight again," Emma ordered and stuck her hand out.

Regina gritted her teeth and begrudgingly took the proffered appendage. She gasped at the strength in the new deputy's hand when she tugged her forward. Beneath her slight frame, Emma Swan hid an impressive musculature. They traversed the first pile of rubble without incident, pushing and pulling on each other's hand for support.

"Graham, we're in. Check in every five minutes. I'll answer as long as I have signal and haven't died," Emma informed her supervisor who chuckled at her optimistic attitude and confirmed that he'd maintain contact.

Emma rolled her eyes, missing a piece of rock in her path. She tripped and hit the wall of the mine with her shoulder. She grunted as all of her air whooshed from her lungs. The mine shifted and gurgled, angered by the disturbance. Somehow their hands remained firmly connected.

"Emma!" Regina jerked on her arm, pulling her from the wall as debris crashed to the spot where she'd just been leaning. They looked at each other, mouths gaping, and then moved forward as one unit. Maybe they'd been the best duo to send in after all. Emma fully expected a pointed comment from the mayor, but nothing came. She was as freaked out and scared as Emma, uncomfortable with the thought of Henry's birth mother being injured.

"Henry! Archie!" They called out every few minutes, stopped and listened carefully but no response came.

Graham contact them for the tenth time. They'd been down there nearly an hour with nothing to show for it. The dust settled long ago, but when Regina loosened her grip with the intention of dropping her hand, Emma tightened hers. Green met brown, and both women nodded, understanding without words what the other needed. They needed to find their son, and they needed each other to pull through this mess.

Emma stopped and unclipped her water bottle. Instead of drinking it, she squirted some on her face and shook her head like a dog. "How far do we go?" Emma asked her and blew water from her lips as it dripped down her face.

"As far as it takes," Regina answered and pulled her forward. "Henry! Archie! Call out!" Regina pushed forward, but Emma held her ground, digging in her heels.

"Regina, we should stop and take a break. Five minutes, just until Graham radios again. When we find them, we need to have enough strength to help them," she reasoned.

Emma dropped her hand abruptly, and Regina recoiled from the sudden loss of contact. Emma raised the water bottle and poured some into her mouth without touching the lip piece and then offered it to Regina. Her hand shook violently with the effort, and she gritted her teeth as the other woman slowly took the bottle. Emma presented the other woman her back the second the weight was transferred and wrung her hands, eyes closed against what was happening.

"Miss Swan, why are you shaking so violently?" Regina demanded, tone and heart torn between irritated and genuinely concerned.

"Must be the nerves," Emma tossed noncommittally towards the wall. She jerked her jacket from her shoulders and slung it onto the ground, hands finding her waist in frustration. Sweat stains soaked the entirety of her tank top, and she shivered bodily in the frigid mine, at least that's what she told herself.

"You're experiencing the first stages of withdrawal, aren't you?" Regina was pissed and sympathetic and, for the first time, doubtful of their success.

She stepped towards Emma, unsure if she intended to comfort her or strangle her. Her hand acted of its own volition and suddenly appeared on Emma's shoulder. The deputy shrugged and jerked away violently, moving a few steps further into the mine. Regina knew. It was over. She was screwed. A hollow laugh tore from her throat, and chin dropped to her chest.

Regina observed her for a moment. Emma had fought her addiction for her entire adult life. From her research, Regina knew that she'd finally conquered it when she moved to Boston. The fact that she now used enough in the past ten days of being in Storybrooke meant that Emma was far more tortured than anyone knew. Any punishment Regina conjured was child's play next to the punishment Emma subjected herself to willingly. They were so similar in that regard. Hurt yourself worst than your enemies before they stuck. It was an incredibly painful and lonely existence, and compassion swelled in Regina's chest involuntarily.

"Emma, what do you need?" She asked and wrapped her arms around her ribs, comforting herself even if she had none to offer her child's biological mother.

"That's the funny thing about heroin. Once it's in you," she turned slowly and locked eyes with Regina, "it's the only thing you need. What I need, Madame Mayor is for you to shut the hell up and stop pretending that you give a damn about what happens to me. We both know the second this little secret becomes useful in your sick little game, your supposed compassion will stop. And we both know that Henry will pay the price."

Emma gritted her teeth and shook her hands out so violently that her wrists cracked. It dispelled some of the tension building in her body, but it flooded through her veins the moment she stopped moving. A roar of frustration echoed off the walls of the mine a second before Emma slammed her fist into the closest one, and then again, and again.

"Emma! Stop it!" Regina hooked her elbow in Emma's as she pulled back to hit the wall again and spun her away from it. "Have you completely lost your mind? Do you want the rickety mine to fall on us and Henry and Archie?" She grabbed Emma's shoulders and shook her.

"Emma!" Regina grabbed her face when the other woman relaxed in her grip and forced their eyes to meet. "Tell me what you need. I don't care if I have to inject you myself. All I care about is saving my son. Now tell me what you need," Regina searched those tortured green eyes, wishing beyond hope for some sort of miracle that she punched through Emma's walls.

"In my jacket," Emma whispered as her eyes clamped shut with the gravity of what she was about to do. Up to today, she'd only ever used it at night before she met Ruby at the back of the diner. Apparently, it was time to up her dosage. Maybe if she took a small dose in the morning and another in the evening she continued functioning with no one none the wiser. Ruby needed to know only what she told her. Fuck, she was so screwed. She dropped to her knees. Gravel and shell dug into her flesh through denim jeans, and she welcomed the pain. She braced herself with hands on her knees and hung her head, hating herself for crying in front of Regina, her sworn enemy.

"I can't. I'm sorry. I can't. Just go. Save Henry," Emma implored, uncaring if Regina saw that the boy was another weakness. She knew them all anyway.

"Emma, everything okay down there?" Graham's accented voice broke the moment. Emma sniffed, took a deep breath, set her shoulders, took another breath.

"All good. No sign of them yet," she responded into the mic clipped to the strap of her tank top. In spite of their current position, Regina was impressed. There was fight left in Emma Swan yet. Where there was fight, there was hope.

She pulled the loaded syringe from Emma's jacket and then knelt in front of the other equally tortured woman. She gripped her shoulder and marveled a moment at the muscle that rippled beneath her hand, her mind venturing for a moment to what Emma looked like naked. Did she have defined abs or just the two lines trailing down her stomach that indicated toned but not bulked muscle? She clamped her eyes shut, reminding her libido that she despised this woman.

"Emma, I have as much desire to witness this as you do to inject yourself, but I need you focused on Henry," Regina explained and held the prepared syringe in her open palm. Emma sensed she'd need it this day. Why else would she have carried a full syringe?

"I can't," Emma said again and covered her face. "I can't do this again. I can't come back from this without Casey, so it needs to stop now. I'm so sorry, Regina," Emma begged the other woman not to force her.

"Emma, there's a program at the hospital. I don't know the doctor personally, but I've heard many positive things. She volunteered to start and oversee the program. Her name is Eva Zambrano. I'll get you help, Emma, I promise. Please, just… help me save my son," Regina begged, guilt and disgust and small hint of glee in her heart. She could have destroyed Emma, and they both knew it. The heady scent of power filled her veins. She tamped it down. It grew again. She silently made a vow to keep her word if Emma saved Henry. It was a compromise. Save Henry, or I will destroy you.

"I can't," Emma said but presented her arm to Regina. "One line. Only inject one line, or it will be too much, and I'll be useless in a totally different way. It should be enough to take the edge off," she explained as she slapped the tender flesh of her arm and clenched her fist. Her veins pumped and rolled, a testament to her previously physically healthy state. She was in good shape.

"Are you sure you want me to do this?" Regina asked. What stopped her from injecting the entire syringe and leaving Emma at the bottom of this mine to die? It would have been so easy to lead her to a cliff and push her over. Graham might have suspected foul play but would have had absolutely no proof.

"Regina, I can't. Please, just do it," Emma commanded, finding her strength somewhere deep in her reserves.

Regina removed the cap of the needle and released a steadying breath. In terms of evil deeds, injecting someone with a highly addictive drug ranked rather low, but it had by far inspired more anxiety than most of the things she'd done. She wanted to be good, she reminded herself and fought the urge to kill Emma Swan.

Shakily, she positioned the tip against the largest vein that didn't already have a hole in it. She almost dropped the syringe at the resistance and resulting _pop crunch_ of entering Emma's flesh. Her chest shuddered as she released the breath she'd been holding. One line. Inject one line. She pushed against the end slightly, squinting at the marked syringe and thanking the inventor of head lamps.

One line. Only one line. One line. She repeated in her head over and over.

She paused when she reached her goal, needle still embedded in Emma's arm. It would have been so easy. Emma sighed, relaxing into the slight burn and rush gushing through her veins. Her eyes rolled into her head a moment before they slipped shut, and Emma grinned. God, she loved that feeling.

Regina pulled the needle away and recapped it. Taking advantage of Emma's trust in this situation would have been the equivalent of Rumpel taking advantage of her when the only thing she sought was love and acceptance. Emma's face held that same naïve belief of the good in people that she'd had before Rumpel raped and tortured it out of her.

Damn it, Emma Swan. Why were you so deliciously tortured and broken? Had you really needed to be the other side of my coin? Regina cursed her silently and returned the syringe to her jacket. She kept her face carefully blank as she helped Emma into the leather monstrosity.

"Better?" She asked, and Emma nodded. "It wasn't too much?" Emma shook her head and accepted the hand she offered.

"Thank you, Regina," Emma said as she found her footing. "I'll stop. I'll go to the program. Just… please don't tell Henry. Use it against me all you want, but don't put it in the papers. Don't hurt our son anymore. If you want to hurt me, then hurt me. Take my job, whatever, just… please don't tell Henry," Emma pleaded with her. Regina opened her mouth, closed it, nodded. Emma smiled sadly. It was something.

"Let's go get our boy," Emma rallied, gripping Regina's hand firmly. The drugs made her lighter on her feet, more alert now that she wasn't shaking and itching for another hit. It hadn't given her a high, but it helped her feel normal enough to function properly. Shit.

"Henry! Archie! Call out!" Emma yelled a few minutes later.

"Emma!" A faint call answered. Emma and Regina glanced at each other and then took off in a sprint.

"Henry! Call out again!" Regina skidded to a stop, jerking Emma back, as she listened.

"We're here! Emma! Mom! We're here! In the elevator!" Henry informed them, fear and emotion lacing his voice.

His mothers pushed forward, now that they had a location. When they reached the shaft, they stared over the edge and then upwards. The elevator groaned and screeched. The rusted brakes were giving out. They must have damaged the system with the blast.

"Henry, is Archie with you?" Emma asked, already rigging the rope to her harness. She jerked the mic off her shoulder and handed it to Regina, and the dark woman immediately informed Graham.

"He got knocked out when the elevator fell," Henry called up, and Emma winced. Damn it. She couldn't have carried the therapist even if she wasn't jacked up on heroin.

"This has to go to the surface, Regina. Tell them to find the air shaft and get us some help. Tell them to listen for the banging. These rails must go all the way to the surface. Take your flashlight and hit it as hard as you can. Hold on, Kid!" Emma called down a moment before the metallic clang of metal on metal echoed off the walls.

She wrapped the rope in her climbing carabineer, testing the friction level and then wrapping it one more time for good measures. Thank the gods for her cat burglar days. She tied the rope off on a rail and tossed the rest over the edge. It hit the top of the elevator with a triumphant _thunk_. It was long enough.

"Emma," Regina called and halted her banging. Emma caught her gaze across the darkness. "Be careful." Emma nodded.

"I need you to get your harness off and toss it down. I hope it fits Archie. Hear that squeal? That's the brakes giving out. We might not have time to wait for Graham to find the shaft before it goes. Toss me your rope. I'll tie it off before I go down."

She talked and pulled on her thick gloves at the same time. Regina immediately followed her orders, clearly out of her element. Emma tied off the second rope and then eased herself over the side, opting for a slow free fall once she'd descended far enough to do so. If she repelled the entire length of the shaft, she ran the risk of exacerbating the brake situation. The elevator shivered but held when she set her feet on the steel mesh on the top.

"Kid! You okay?" She asked, her voice echoing off the walls. She pulled the hatch up and leaned it against the wall gently, terrified that one wrong move would send them plummeting to the bottom of the shaft.

"Regina, where's that harness!" She pointed her headlamp towards the surface a moment before the harness rushed towards her. She caught it and then handed it down to Henry.

"Kid, get yourself in that okay?" Emma ordered and then lowered herself into the elevator.

She fastened him in and tied him off on the second rope. She was scared. The elevator creaked and groaned and fell an inch or two before she'd finished with Henry. They needed to get weight off of the brakes now.

"Regina! See the rope that's moving?" She wiggled the rope that Henry was attached to and then continued before receiving an answer. "Hold it around your hips and walk backwards! Whatever you do, do NOT stop until Henry is completely on solid ground."

A moment later Henry began moving towards the surface. Emma guided him through the small hole in the elevator. One down, one to go. Archie presented a much larger challenge.

"Archie?" She shook him with her foot as she unbuckled her harness with no result.

He was out cold, probably from the nasty gash on his forehead, but he'd live if she and Regina managed to get him on top of the elevator. She struggled to get the harness around him and sighed when she clipped the last snap in place and tied a knot A gust of air and faint light whooshed downward. Graham found the entrance. The new air pressure pressed on the brakes, and Emma froze. There was a split moment where everything became perfectly still, and Emma found peace. She was meant to die today, and she felt peace, finally.

"Regina! Pull as hard as you can!" Emma ordered, her voice calm.

At least she saved Archie if they positioned him at the hole so he wasn't crushed under the weight of the falling elevator. She lifted his shoulders and helped as much as her strength allowed from her end. The floor fell out from under her, and she clawed at Archie's back when her survival instinct kicked in.

Her fingers caught in the back of the harness, and her fall stopped abruptly. She clutched at the unconscious man, nearly losing her grip when she dropped several inches. Regina must have let go of the rope.

"Emma!" A terrified female voice called down the shaft. "No, Emma!" Regina was upset, grief-stricken even? "Emma!" A hollow scream echoed down the shaft. Regina cared?

"I'm here!" Emma called up as her sense returned. She found another hand hold and reinforced her grip.

"Regina, I need that rope!" Emma called, suddenly afraid. She hadn't wanted to die. She wanted to live. She wanted to get better. Someone cared.

The rope fell from the surface, harness still attached. She'd never have been able to get into it, but it gave her something hang onto. She slipped one leg into the harness and prayed she retained enough strength to hold herself with one hand. She took a deep breath and let go with her right hand, wincing as the muscles in her left arm pulled and burned. She fumbled with the second rope but finally wrapped it around her arm and pulled her weight onto the second harness, all of her weight on her right leg.

It pinched her thigh and crotch in all of the wrong places, but it was solid ground or at least as close as she'd get until Graham swooped down from the heavens like a sheriff god and saved her sorry ass. She gripped the rope until her knuckles turned white and her hands cramped from the effort.

"Emma?" Regina called from above, fear quivering her voice.

"I'm good. I can wait here until help comes," Emma heaved, unsure if Regina even heard the words through her gasps.

"Good, because I can't pull you up," came the quiet response. Emma breathed deep and leaned her forehead on the rope, glad that the shaft had a cool breeze pulling up towards the surface.

"Emma?" Regina called down, and Emma glanced up. Regina and Henry lay on their stomachs and stared over the edge.

"Graham says that the rescue team is being lowered right now. Should be a few minutes. Are you okay?"

Regina's voice sounded softer, Emma dared to say tender, even. She grinned up at the two concerned faces and nodded. Perhaps she and Regina had been the best team for the job after all. They pushed and pulled instead of coddled and encouraged each other, and it worked. If they ever figured out their differences and the situation with Henry, they created an imposing and unstoppable duo.

"I'm good," she answered with a hint of a smile that for the first time in her life felt like it came from her heart.


	6. Stay with Me

Enjoy Lovelies!

Songs: Only a Memory and Iodine by Icon for Hire, Say Your Name by Plumb

* * *

Emma sat propped against the back door of Granny's diner and shivered in the cool night air of Maine. She had waited for Ruby for nearly 30 minutes, but the waitress hadn't yet appeared. It seemed the streets of Storybrooke were emptier tonight than usual, probably from exhaustion from the day's events. She, for one, was beyond tired. After she and Regina rescued Archie and Henry, they all went to the hospital to get checked out. As promised, Regina tracked down someone with information on the support program at the hospital.

Dr. Zambrano wasn't available, but one of the nurses who worked closely with the program met with Emma. After hearing about Emma's most recent use, she pulled the emergency room doctor into the discussion. He saw the merit in her request and ordered X-rays of Emma's shoulders since she'd been hanging by her hands, and heroin use destroyed joints. The issues with her joints had developed over her adult life, though, not overnight. Her left shoulder had been partially dislocated, and though she'd felt next to nothing when they'd set it, it throbbed and burned in the sling and brace they'd forced her into.

Regina disappeared almost directly after finding the nurse and left Emma to do as she wished. She'd upheld her end of the bargain. She'd gotten her started on the road to recovery once again. It was entirely up to Emma whether or not she took it, at least that's what the mayor told herself. Emma took the information from the nurse and agreed to meet with her privately the next day but adamantly refused to go to any group meetings.

She saw the value in the meetings for other people, but they'd only ever reminded her how incredibly alone she was in the world. Everyone else talked about how much they lost, their family and friends and careers. They spoke of reconciliation with parents and spouses and siblings, and Emma's heart clenched with the desire to use again. She hadn't lost anything by using, she gained an escape from her reality and she found a friend in Casey. But now Casey was gone, and Emma had things to lose. It wasn't much, but the tentative love of the son she'd abandoned and Ruby and Mary Margaret was enough to make her want more. The only way she achieved that was to stop using before it consumed her life completely.

"Miss Swan?" Regina called from the curb and took a few reticent steps towards the back of the diner.

"Go away, Madame Mayor," Emma grumbled and winced with the effort of speaking. Everything hurt.

"What are you doing? You should be in bed resting," Regina chided as she stopped in front of the small stoop and shoved her hands into the pockets of her long black pea coat.

"I'm waiting for Ruby," Emma answered without elaboration. A violent shiver vibrated her back against the door, and she winced, nearly grabbing her shoulder before remembering her injury. God, she was pathetic. Emma silently pitied herself.

"You'll be waiting some time, I'm afraid. I watched her and Miss Blanchard enter The Rabbit Hole 15 minutes ago when I walked by," Regina's voice was cordial, carefully masked of any emotions.

"Fan-fucking-tastic," Emma grumbled and leaned forward. She scooted towards Regina with the intention of returning to Mary Margaret's apartment. The naïve teacher had virtually no idea what was happening under her own roof.

"Miss Swan, what exactly are you doing here?" Regina sniped, covering the uncomfortable clench in her stomach caused by the sight of Emma in so much pain.

"I'm ordering a fucking cheeseburger, Madame Mayor. Is that a crime now? Are you going to have me arrested again? Here, I'll arrest myself," Emma exploded and struggled with the hand cuffs attached to her belt.

"For the love of god, Miss Swan, stop with your dramatics. I'm only making sure that you are well enough to return to Miss Blanchard's, an act of compassion that I won't soon repeat if this is the result," Regina pushed back, challenged her counterpart.

"Compassion? You want to talk about compassion? I fucking believed you, you spiteful bitch! You said you'd help me, and I believed you. Dropping an addict off at the hospital and bringing her a nurse who works with the Narcotics and Alcoholics Anonymous program doesn't actually equal helping me. I'm not sure why I expected more from you, but I did. Now, I'm fucking screwed. I should have never let you do it," Emma berated the older woman, finding comfort in her anger. The pain lessened when the adrenaline filled her veins in anger.

Regina gritted her teeth and dropped to one knee on the wet sidewalk. She grabbed Emma's uninjured shoulder in one hand and her chin with the other. She had made that promise, and Emma upheld her end of the bargain, nearly losing her own life in the process. She shut her eyes and took a deep breath. Was this actually happening?

"What is it that you need, Miss Swan?" She forced out and opened her eyes to find dull green studying her.

"I need a safe place to go through withdrawal. I get violent at times, and I can't put anyone at risk," Emma pleaded with Regina, daring to hope one more time that the mayor had an ounce of honor inside of her dark soul.

"I won't bring this into my house around my son, but I have a shed at the edge of my property. It's heated, and there's an old mattress that I haven't disposed of yet from when I bought my new bed a few months ago. It's the best I can offer under your parameters," Regina clipped out, hoping like hell that Emma hadn't taken her offer already.

"Does it lock from the outside?" Regina nodded. "Then it will work," Emma accepted the proffered gift quietly. "Just lock me in and make sure I have lots of water," she instructed and wobbly pushed to her feet. Regina grabbed her waist instinctively when she faltered and nearly fell over.

"You want me to lock you in a cage like an animal?" Regina clarified, surprised at the less-than-human request.

"Look, your forehead is already exploding with the effort of being nice to me," Emma started, indicating that Regina's throbbing emotion vein had made an appearance.

"Have you ever seen someone go through withdrawal before?" Regina shook her head and gripped Emma tighter when she wavered.

"We're no better than wild animals," Emma informed her, wanting her to know exactly what she'd agreed to and giving her a chance to rescind the offer. "People don't keep using because they want to feel that high again. We get sick of it. We look like shit. We feel like shit, and we eventually end up hating ourselves. We don't want to live like that, but we do because using is a better alternative than the pain of withdrawal," Emma stopped and clenched Regina's shoulder when a violent tremor tore through her bodily. She gritted her teeth and waited for it to pass. This was nothing compared to what was in store tomorrow.

"I will beg you to let me out, to let me use a little bit just to take the edge off. And when you refuse, I will lash out at you. If I happen to have something in my hand, I will throw it at you or I will use my fist or feet or teeth. Whatever works best. This is going to get far worst before it gets better. I've been through worst because I haven't been using that long, but it's still going to be ugly. Can you handle that, Madame Mayor?" Emma spat, praying that Regina said yes. _Please don't leave me._ She begged silently but kept her eyes hard. Regina deserved to know exactly what was going to happen over the next week.

"Are you trying to frighten me, Miss Swan?" Regina leaned towards the taller woman, and Emma jerked back, fearing she might have meant to kiss her. Regina sneered and pressed closer. "I have done things that make your pathetic addiction look like child's play. Now, walk before I drag you," Regina ordered, her voice dripping with danger. The rumble slid up Emma's spine deliciously.

Regina surprised both of them when she wrapped an arm around Emma's waist and pulled her towards the street. Secretly, Emma was relieved, unsure if she possessed the balance to walk a straight line. She had the strength, that she knew, but she was uncoordinated and in pain, which made her wobble and weave unevenly on her feet.

Emma gratefully slumped into the passenger seat of Regina's Mercedes and rubbed her injured shoulder gently. The mayor wordlessly drove towards Mifflin Street. Emma studied the other woman's striking features in the dim light, noticing how much softer she appeared in the darkness. Perhaps Regina released the iron vice on her control once darkness descended, hoping no one looked closely enough to see the tired lines on her face and grief in her eyes. How the hell had she gotten this way? Emma wondered but remained silent on the subject for now.

"Why are you doing this? Helping me, I mean," Emma asked suddenly and brushed away her thoughts of Regina's past.

"I made a deal, Miss Swan. I had a very strict mentor once, and he taught me above all else to honor my contracts, even those struck in dark dusty mines with irritating blonde bimbos experiencing withdrawal from heroin. It's more of a conditioned response than a desire to see you healthy again. Do not mistake my fulfillment of obligation for compassion."

Her voice was cold, conditioned, but her eyes told Emma that Regina had lied. She cared but she hadn't wanted to. She wanted to hate Emma, but their disconcerting and natural connection prevented her anger from becoming hatred. Her superpower may not be perfect, but she had Regina figured out. She told the truth about her mentor, but it wasn't the only reason she honored their verbal contract. Emma tucked the information away for later pondering and followed Regina to the back shed.

It was situated several hundred yards from the back of the house and on the opposite side of Henry's bedroom. Good, Emma thought. They tugged at the mattress until it lay flat on the floor. Emma was practically useless with only one hand but gave it her best effort. Regina left wordlessly, and Emma figured that she'd been abandoned to her own devices for the rest of the night. She lay back on the mattress and rubbed her stomach with her good hand. She shivered and sweated at the same time, and the cool night air felt good against her heated skin.

As quickly as it soothed her, the cool relief turned into painful shivers as her internal temperature shifted and felt the cold damp air acutely. She turned onto her right side and curled into a ball, conserving as much of her heat as possible, but her leather jacket might as well have been made of gossamer for all the held it offered.

"Fuck!" A quake slammed into her and vibrated her injured shoulder in all the wrong ways. She breathed into the pain and pulled her knees tighter to her chest. She cried out against the pain, focused on her breathing and forgot the tears streaming down her face.

"Emma," Regina's deep rolling timbre cut into the fog of her mind, sounding farther away than kneeling at her back

A soft blanket that smelled of fresh laundry slid up her body and stopped at her chin. Emma sobbed harder when a firm but small hand pressed into her thigh and rubbed comforting circles into the clenching muscles. Calm seeped into Emma's soul and slid cool fingers around the heated anguish in her heart. Her tears slowed until she lay still and numb with the occasional body tremor vibrated her beneath the compassionate hand of her enemy. She gave her body completely to the old mattress that wasn't actually that old.

"Emma," Regina whispered, now that the worst had passed. "Emma, if you sit up, I'll put a sheet down for you," she spoke gently and pulled tangled blonde hair from Emma's face. Emma nodded and moved to the floor with Regina's assistance.

"What can I do to help you through tonight?" Regina asked as she pulled the fitted sheet onto the mattress. "Why don't you tell me a little about yourself," Regina prodded, hoping for a reaction.

"Because I look like I'm such a sharing mood, right?" Emma clipped and adjusted the comforter around her shoulders. "Don't you already know everything from your background check?" She accused in a dark, hollow voice that spoke of her growing rage.

"Fine. Have it your way, Miss Swan. I'll return in the morning with your water bowl, animal," Regina seethed, her temper finally reaching its limit. Emma clenched her fist, closed her eyes and gritted her teeth, attempting to get her mood swing under control.

"I was thirteen," she started quietly, and Regina froze. The only thing still visible from Emma's position was four fingertips on the door that stilled about six inches from shutting her away from the world.

"It was my fourth foster home. They seemed really nice at first," Emma continued, tears welling in her eyes. Regina closed the door, shutting she and Emma inside the shed.

"I assume from your tone that impression was inaccurate?" Regina asked between slow taps across the cement.

She fluffed the pillow she'd brought out and helped Emma onto the bed, grateful that the addict seemed calm at least for the moment. She knew very little about withdrawal, but she was beginning to see that it came in unexpected spurts, like grief. Once Emma settled onto her back, Regina kicked off her heels and sat cross-legged on the mattress at Emma's knee. If she were honest with herself, what was still unknown about Emma's life intrigued her far more than the impersonal details she read in her background check.

"I was in two foster homes that year. The first one… like I said, they seemed really nice. I was supposed to share a room with their daughter who was about my age. My social worker dropped me off, stayed for dinner with the family, and then left. She was satisfied that I'd do well there and left." Emma paused, shivered, continued.

"_Emma, go to Marcie's room and collect your things. You'll actually be getting your own room," Paul, her new foster father, ordered her. His voice had hardened, but Emma's eyes lit up as she turned from the window where she had watched her social worker drive away. _

_The property was isolated, a small farm a few hours from any type of large city and 30 minutes from the nearest town. She was a rambunctious and athletic child, and her social worker assured her that having that much space to run and physically challenging chores gave her an opportunity to focus her energy into something productive. It seemed like a match made in heaven, and even as a terrified child, she was excited. She would have worked hard to make this her forever home because the open fields and funny little animal noises soothed her. _

"_I get my own room?" Emma confirmed, eyes glazing with the possibilities. She scrambled up the steps of the large farmhouse and quickly collected her single suitcase and stuffed rabbit and returned to the living room._

_Paul led her to a door near the kitchen with a smile on his face. A knot of anxiety pulled at her stomach when she watched her foster mother Candace knock back a shot of whiskey and lean her hands on the counter. Her back was tight with tension, and her eyes shimmered with tears when she met Emma's eyes across the room. Emma swallowed roughly and followed Paul down a set of rickety stairs. _

_A single bulb hung in the center of the room. A small cot with ratty blankets and no pillow sat against the wall across from the stairs. It smelled of must and cobwebs hung everywhere. Emma wasn't particularly fond of spiders, but maybe they intended for her to earn her place at their table. Emma's chest puffed with the challenge, even if her stomach churned with dread. This really wasn't a place she wanted to sleep, and she almost missed her bunk at the home. _

"_Clean it up tonight before you go to bed or there will be a belt waiting for you in the morning," Paul warned and then stomped up the stairs. _

_Emma shivered when the tumblers of a lock clicked into place. She hated being locked up at night, and sliver of panic banged against her chest. She took a deep breath and looked around the room. It wasn't that bad, she reasoned. She only had to clean for a few hours to avoid a punishment. That wasn't that terrible. And clean she did. A dust pan, broom, cleaning chemicals and rags were strewn about the basement. Everything she needed to make this place her clean if worn home. It was going to be perfect, she vowed. _

_She avoided punishment for the first few weeks, but as Paul added more and more chores to her list, she realized that she wouldn't for long. She loved the farm, adored the animals, learned how to ride a horse, and Candace was kind. Emma loved helping Candace make dinner. As evening neared, she pushed herself to her breaking limits just to be done in time to help out. Making dinner wasn't a required chore, but she looked forward to the woman's gentle voice and icy blue eyes. Her hair was blonde and wild like hers, and even though she looked constantly exhausted and emotionally worn out, Emma thought she was the most beautiful woman she'd ever seen. _

_The beatings started within the first month and never ended with Emma being tossed down the stairs to her cot one night. She hurt everywhere all the time, but no matter how badly she wanted tears to falls, they refused her any relief. They refused to fall on behalf of the evil man who had hurt her, refused to give him the satisfaction even if he couldn't possibly have seen them. After months of being pushed like a work horse and beaten when she failed to meet standards, she had nothing to grieve for. This was her life now, and she'd not succumb to a bully like Paul Jenson. _

_Sometime in the middle of the night, Candace descended the creaking stairs, wincing and pausing with each moan of the old wood. She had never come to her before that night, fearing her husband's wrath if she disobeyed him, but she tenderly cleaned Emma's wounds and tucked her bloody hair behind her ears. _

"_Emma, we have to go. Can you stand?" Her breathy, quivering whisper barely reached Emma's ears. She was scared. Emma nodded._

"_Where are we going?" Emma whispered just as softly, and Candace smiled sadly._

"_Away from here. We'll take the horses and go through the woods," she explained hurriedly and pulled on her elbow until Emma found her feet. "Be quiet," Candace said needlessly. _

_By the time they reached the barn, Candace sprinted and Emma huffed and allowed her foster mother to drag her along. Everything hurt; the double meaning of that statement wasn't lost on Emma. Candace shoved her onto Charcoal and climbed up behind her. Marcie waited atop Blaze at the stable door. Emma leaned heavily into the slender woman holding her upright, certain now that her ribs had been fractured if not broken._

"_Let's go, Charcoal," she ordered and took off at a gallop with only the moon to light their way. _

"_Hey!" Paul shouted from the front porch a moment before Emma heard the blast of his shotgun. Charcoal faltered when Candace's grip on the reigns. Emma grabbed her hands but wasn't strong enough to keep the woman from falling to the ground. _

"_Candace!" Emma screamed, but only cold unseeing eyes stared up at her where warmth and compassion previously resided. _

"_Mom!" Marcie cried. _

_Instinct took over, and Emma urged the horse forward, snagging the reigns of Blaze as she passed. Thankfully, the other horse offered little resistance as it fell into step with Charcoal. Marcie grunted when another blast trailed them. Emma grabbed the other girl's hand, somehow remained atop her horse. Marcie snapped back to reality and took control of Blaze's reigns. _

"_He hit my shoulder," she yelled. "I'll be okay." Emma nodded and released her hand. There was faint yelling behind them and then another explosion. In unison, they pulled their mounts to a stop and looked back._

"_Dad," Marcie whispered and nearly kicked Blaze into motion, but Emma's hand on her arm stopped her._

"_Don't. Don't remember either of them like that," she pleaded. Marcie wiped her nose with the back of her hand and nodded. They rode through the night and finally reached town as the sky pinked up and promised the start of a new day. _

_People stared and whispered as the two bloody teenagers loped down the street towards the police station. Emma held her head as high as she could and resigned herself to returning to the home once again. She never rode a horse again, and she never cooked anything beyond ramen noodles again. _

The story ended when the addict trembled violently again and tossed the cover from her heated body. Regina swallowed her tears and simply studied Emma's face. She was at a loss for how to help her son's birth mother, so she waited. After a few minutes, Emma stilled and her breathing evened. Certain that she'd fallen asleep, Regina pulled the blanket over her and gently uncrossed her legs. Weak fingers grasped at her forearm before she left the mattress.

"Regina, will you stay with me?" Emma asked shyly with her voice, but her eyes pleaded desperately with the older woman.

"I thought you became violent and wanted to be alone," Regina countered, not sure if she wanted to cuddle the woman or kill her. Killing her would have been a mercy.

"If I do, you can knock me in the head and pick me up in the morning," Emma answered teasingly, nearly mimicking Regina's earlier statement at the mines. Against her will, one side of Regina's mouth quirked into a half smile.

"Only if you promise never to tell anyone. I have a reputation to maintain," Regina joked and relaxed, already deciding to stay with the tortured woman for the night.

"My lips sealed," Emma vowed seriously. Regina's bargain may have been made in jest, but Emma intended to keep it anyway.

Regina nodded, shimmied out of her coat and bunched it into a ball, set an alarm on her phone and then laid stiffly on her back next to the shivering woman. She adjusted her head until she found a comfortable position on the coat. She had ordered Graham earlier to remain with Henry until her return, so her son rested in good hands. Emma pulled the blanket over both of them and pressed her back into Regina's side. The physical contact soothed her frayed nerves only slightly, but it was slightly more than she'd had without Regina's warm body against her back.

She drifted off on a high note, believing for the first time that she might beat her addiction one more time.


	7. Never Meant to Care

Hello Sweet Doves! Thank you for all of the reviews and follows. This is a difficult story to write, and I imagine to read as well. So, thanks for your dedication to go through this journey with me.

Enjoy Lovelies!

Songs: Mz. Hyde, Innocence and I'm Not an Angel by Halestorm

* * *

Emma groaned to life and pulled the blanket over her head, shutting out the bright morning light. She hated mornings. The previous night crashed into her, and she reached out for Regina, eyes cracking when she came up empty. She sat up slowly and grabbed her head when a dizzying rush of blood throbbed through her temples. The pain receded a moment later, and she dared to glance around the shed. A small tray of crackers, toast, fruit, bottled water and a two thermoses awaited her.

Emma snagged the tent of paper with her name on the front in perfect loopy cursive with two fingers. She fumbled to hold it open with one hand and blinked rapidly, wetting her contacts.

_Miss Swan, as I am unused to caring for addicts, I brought you a variety of things. I will be in counsel meetings most of the morning, so fend for yourself until I return around 1:30 on my lunch break. The door is padlocked, and I confiscated anything that looked remotely tempting from your pockets. -Regina_

Emma smiled sadly. Regina cared. People who fulfilled bargains out of obligation wouldn't have bothered leaving such heartfelt note and fussed over what she might have wanted to eat. Emma gingerly sat the note on the tray, snagged a cracker and the thermos with the string of a teabag hanging from the cap. She took one bite of the cracker, tossed it on the tray when her stomach immediately protested, and washed it down with lukewarm tea.

It was mint flavored and soothed her stomach slightly. She sighed and took another sip. The tenderness of Regina's care surprised her and confirmed her theory that Regina felt too deeply, which led to extreme bitchiness that kept people at arm's length. Like Emma, once she loved someone, she loved them forever and sacrificed everything she had if it meant making them smile one more time.

Emma sat the thermos on the floor near her pillow and then moved the bottled water there as well. She laid down and pulled Regina's note onto the mattress, holding it open with two fingers and tracing the bumpy lines of Regina's forceful handwriting with her thumb. Someone cared, Emma thought and closed her eyes against the tears as she gave herself back to the sleep that pulled at her mind.

She awoke hours later to an acid burning through her veins. She screamed and scratched at her chest, trying to alleviate the pain, let it out somehow. Move. Run. Get out. Her mind screamed at her, and she followed its instruction. She tore her arm sling off as she crossed the cement in her bare feet. This was a terrible idea. She hadn't the strength to do this again. She could have learned to live with the habit, get herself on a schedule in order to function properly. She had the strength for that. She could do that.

She slammed into the solid door with her uninjured shoulder. It never budged. She jerked at the knob, growls and groans of frustration tearing from her throat. Regina. Regina had done this. Regina wanted her to suffer. She took pleasure in it. Emma reasoned with her disoriented brain. She tugged at the door one more time and screamed in frustration. It hurt. Everything hurt. She burned alive from the inside out. She had to get out.

Emma ripped off her jacket and flung it to the floor, followed by her shirt. Her skin burned from the inside out, and she hyperventilated with the effort of remaining calm. The water. She needed the water. Her knees hit the mattress a second before she tipped the bottle into her mouth, sucking down half and pouring the rest over her head, chest and back. It heated almost instantly on her feverish skin but offered a moment of relief.

Emma grabbed the note on the mattress, seething with barely contained rage. Regina had done this to her.

"Fuck you!" Spit flew. She ripped the note into tiny pieces and flung them over the bed. A different sort of pain stabbed her heart when a scrap of paper fluttered to the mattress at her knee. The letters _Re_ glared up at her, accusing her. She collapsed onto her elbows and gathered the tiny shreds of paper.

"No, no no. I want it back!" She cried when her hands shook too violently to put the note back together. "I want it back," she repeatedly weakly and jammed her fist into the mattress as heart wrenching sobs pulled from her chest. She sniffed and straightened as a new thought filled her. Regina. This is what she'd wanted.

She wanted Emma to believe that she cared in order to control her, to trap her. She wasn't coming back. She was going to starve to death in this shed, and no one would have even known. No one else knew where she was. Had Regina taken her phone, too? Of course she had. How else would she have prevented Emma from calling the outside world? Emma reasoned in her paranoia, not bothering to search for her mobile device.

She looked around at all of the tools and grabbed a shovel before her mind even registered that she'd stood again. Glass crashed and flew around her when the spade made contact with the window. She hit it again, breaking the wooden beams that held the glass in place.

"Emma! What the hell are you doing?" Regina called from the door. Emma roared and charged the other woman, her captor, her enemy. She must escape.

Regina dropped her purse and brown paper bag from Granny's and caught the shovel handle in her hands, but Emma's momentum slammed her into the door anyway. She grunted as the breath left her chest and gasped as she struggled with the crazed woman attacking her. Emma's normally compassionate, slightly haunted eyes were devoid of all emotion except for a cold rage that bore into Regina's panicked brown.

"Emma stop!" Regina begged, fear seizing her heart and voice.

Emma faltered for a moment, and her pressure on the shovel lessen as Emma shook her head, trying to focus through the haze in her mind. Regina gulped a breath and relaxed, hoping she'd broken into Emma's mind. She had for only a moment before Emma's eyes hardened again. Regina froze a moment and watched the transformation, and then instinct took over. She jerked the shovel upwards, catching Emma on the cheek and temple.

She gasped and fell against the door as Emma crumpled to the floor, taking the shovel with her. Regina gathered her bearings and waited for the second attack, but it never came. Emma was out cold. Her hands shook uncontrollably, but she managed to roll Emma onto her back. A dark purple bruise had already formed on her swollen cheek, but there was no blood. The deputy was going to suffer from a massive headache when she awoke, but there probably wasn't any permanent damage. Regina sighed in relief and pressed her hands into her thighs as she slumped and allowed the adrenaline to leave her body.

Emma woke about ten minutes later and grunted quietly at the throbbing behind her eyes. Had she dreamed attacking Regina with a shovel? It had to have been a dream. She tried to rub her aching face, but her hand was thwarted by an unseen force cutting into her wrist, and her left arm was hooked into the sling. Emma cracked her eyes and rolled them towards her bound wrist, finding her own handcuffs to be the culprit restraint.

"Welcome back, Miss Swan," Regina called from across the room, but Emma lacked the willpower to turn her head or open her eyes again.

She gasped when something cold pressed against her pounding face. Emma groaned into the soothing relief of the ice pack against her injury. Regina pulled it away and prodded the skin gently with her thumb, checking the extent of the swelling, and then returned the pack.

"Are you calm enough to be released?" She asked, and Emma cracked her eyes and stared hazily up at her caregiver. Regina grinned involuntarily, face softening with emotion. Emma's bright green orbs had returned to their usual soulfulness.

"Did you hit me with a shovel?" Emma rasped rather than answer Regina's question.

"I did," Regina answered matter-of-factly and smiled wider at the surprise in Emma's face.

"I'm so sorry, Regina. I was crazy, out of my mind. I didn't mean to attack you," Emma apologized and allowed one solitary tear to leak onto her cheek. Regina brushed it away with her thumb and cupped Emma's cheek. She caressed the skin beneath Emma's eye even though no more tears followed. It was a soothing gesture that Emma almost believed to be instinctual, subconscious on Regina's part.

"You warned me this would happen. I was amply prepared," came the response and forgiveness automatically. Emma winced at the blatant lie and sliver of fear in Regina's eyes but said nothing. Regina dropped the ice pack and released her wrist before setting the cold compress into Emma's hand and guiding it back to her swollen face.

"Hold that there another ten minutes. I have another in the freezer. I'll bring it out in an hour or so," she said gently, remorseful for having caused the injury. She kicked off her pumps, sat cross-legged as she had lasted night, and pulled a disposable tape dispenser from her coat pocket.

"Do you want to talk about it?" She eyed Emma wearily, studying the different emotions dancing through her face.

Regina wasn't sure why she'd texted Stacy and cancelled all of her afternoon appointments or why she felt compelled to sit with Emma. They were supposed to be enemies, after all, but here she was, patiently waiting and taping together a silly note that she'd written. It meant nothing to her, but Emma had obviously tried to reassemble it during her withdrawal-induced haze. If completing that task helped, Regina intended to tape it seamlessly together, like tape laminate. Perhaps she gave it a fighting chance for the next go round with the suffering deputy.

"What do you want to know this time?" Emma sniped. She hadn't wanted to talk, but she owed Regina something. If she took payment in stories of a pathetic and inconsequential life, well… at least it was something she had in overabundance. She'd have been able to pay the toll for years.

"Tell me about the first time you chose to use heroin," Regina said evenly, her eyes focused on her task.

Emma puffed a sigh, closed her eyes, and settled against the pillow. "Why do you want to know about that?" Emma asked, hoping Regina backed away from the subject.

"Humor me," Regina pushed. Emma sighed and tossed the ice pack onto the bed. Regina almost chided her for not leaving it against her face long enough but bit her tongue.

"I was 17. It was about six months before I went to jail.

_She and Matt were close, closer than she'd been with any of her other foster siblings since. He was the first person she cared about since Candace and Marcie. After the murder-suicide, the state kept them together for emotional support for a few months until Marcie's aunt agreed to take in the teenager. They begged her to take Emma as well, but she refused, blaming the other girl for the death of her sister. Emma still believed her. It was her fault Candace died, and she refused to open herself up to anyone else, afraid she'd have destroyed them, too. _

_Matt was different, though. No matter how much attitude and unjust ire she flung at him, he laughed it off, punched her shoulder amicably and sauntered away to give her time to cool down. She loved him and trusted him. He had stepped into her life at a time when she desperately needed something to cling to, and he made her love him. So when she barreled into his bedroom after school that day and saw the needle sticking from his arm, she felt compassion instead of disgust and judgment. _

_She offered to help him get into a program and to help him tell his parents. They were kind and caring people, and Emma sensed if she continued behaving and doing well in school, they might actually have kept her until she turned 18 and maybe even helped her get into college and let her come back during summers and holiday breaks. It was the family she'd always longed for, and the thought of losing them terrified her. _

"_Matt, we can get you help, man. It doesn't have to be this way," Emma implored and grabbed the boy's arm affectionately. If they weren't bound by the no relationship between foster siblings rule, Emma might have admitted her romantic attraction to him. _

_He shook his shaggy brown hair and pulled away. "You don't get it, do you? I don't want to stop," he admitted, glee in his eyes. "Come on, Em, try it with me. Just one time, and you'll understand. You'll be okay if you only do it once," he assured when he saw the apprehension and fear cross her eyes. _

"_Are you sure?" she asked, wanting desperately to understand her brother. She wanted to help him, and maybe he was right. If she understood the way he felt, she understood how to help him fight it. _

"_It's perfectly safe," he comforted her, and trailed his fingers through her wild blonde hair. He cupped her neck and traced his thumb over her jaw. Her bright naïve eyes told him all he needed to know. She'd already given in, and he readied the syringe. _

"_Just a little," Emma instructed and swallowed the thick fear in her throat. _

"_You can trust me," he said with a wink and tie the tourniquet tightly around her bicep. "I won't lead you astray." _

_Emma nodded and studied his face as he injected her with the liquid bliss. It took her pain. It made her fly. Matt flew with her, and she loved him more. It took only a few days until she begged him for a hit several times a day. He always smiled and obliged. This went on for months, and Emma cared about nothing except getting her next high. Screw college and summers and breaks and school. All she needed was Matt and heroin. _

_She'd been addicted for three months before they hit their first wall. She came to him as she always did, but he refused her. He explained that she'd been freeloading, and if she wanted more, she had to pay. They fought. Emma had nothing to give, no money, no possessions, nothing but her devotion and companionship. _

"_You have something to give," he said as his eyes leered over her body lasciviously. She gulped and backed away._

"_No. I don't want us to be like that, Matt. I want to be with you, but I don't want our first time to be like this," she pleaded, jerking when her back hit his bedroom door suddenly. His parents arrived home two hours after she got off the bus. No one was there to stop him if he forced her. _

_He approached her slowly, clearly hazed out of his mind. "Matt, please. I've never been with anyone," Emma begged, afraid he'd take what she wouldn't give willingly. _

Emma fell silent and covered her eyes as if she might have blocked out the images in her mind with the gesture, and Regina studied the rest of her face. Had the boy raped Emma? Had that been her first sexual experience? Regina gritted her teeth, memories of herself taking another young girl's innocence filled her thoughts. Belle. She hung her head and forced the next question from her mouth.

"Emma, did he…" she choked, unable to finish. Her emotions swelled from two facts that became crystal clear in this moment. She cared for Emma Swan, and the Evil Queen was dead and gone forever. 28 years in limbo softened her desire for vengeance, healed her anger. All that remained was Regina.

"No. Heroin can cause impotence in men. It actually saved me that day. I ran away, quit school, and never looked back," Emma finished her tale succinctly, devoid of emotion.

"You must have met Henry's father soon after," Regina pushed, wondering how much more Emma felt comfortable revealing.

"Regina, I'm tired," she said and rolled onto her side facing away from the older woman. She wasn't sure that she'd ever be ready to tell Henry's adoptive mother that his birth father was either a rapist or a dishonest thief who left her to take the fall for his crime, and that she hadn't a clue which one. She snagged the ice pack, rested her head on it and picked at the comforter her absently.

Regina's brow tightened with her throat, and she swallowed her tears. She sat the tape aside and lowered her body behind Emma's, holding her weight on her elbow. Her breast pressed gently into her back when she leaned over and slid the immaculately taped note into Emma's hand, effectively halting the assault on the threads of her blanket. Emma's hair obscured her face, but Regina watched her thumb brush over the words she no longer had the ability to touch.

She wrapped the note in her fist and tucked it beneath her chin, holding the it to her chest. Regina nearly broke down. This poor woman only wanted someone to love her, to care about her. Everyone Emma had ever loved either died, abandoned her or took advantage of her. The note she'd hastily written in irritation this morning barely constituted civility, but it meant something far deeper to Emma Swan, a woman so damaged and abused that she made Regina feel better about herself for a moment. She wasn't the only broken soul in Storybrooke anymore.

Regina tucked her arm beneath her head and scooted into Emma. She released a shaky breath and then gingerly touched Emma's waist. She would have much preferred touching her shoulder, but it was injured and probably ached badly from Emma's earlier episode. A tear slid down her face when Emma's back vibrated gently with silent tears of her own. Regina squeezed her side, letting her know that she wouldn't have let go if Emma vocalized her pain.

"I'm here, Emma," she whispered to the back of her head and squeezed her eyes shut tightly. She never meant to give her heart to Emma but realized in that moment that she'd had very little choice in the matter.

Emma Swan had won her over, and she couldn't have turned back from that even if she wanted to. Maybe if she tried, she no longer had to suffer through a friendless existence anymore.


	8. Let Me Be Your Knightley

Okay, Dear Doves! So after that last chapter, I thought I'd give my heart and wallet a rest and write something that required less cigarettes. A bit of fluff and relationship progression, nothing too dark.

Enjoy Lovelies!

Songs: Rapunzel and What If by Emilie Autumn, Halo by Beyonce

* * *

Emma woke alone and shivering. She groaned, rallying her strength to go through another bout of mood and temperature shifts, but they never came. She blinked into the darkness. She was cold. She'd ripped her shirt off earlier and never redressed before falling asleep in Regina's embrace. She sat up and touched the spot where Regina had been. It was cold. She'd been gone for some time, probably since Henry got home from school.

The tray had been removed and plastic taped over the broken window. She winced, not really remembering breaking it but knowing that she'd done it. Her stomach grumbled uncomfortably, and she rubbed it. How long had she been off the heroin? Was it only yesterday that she'd save Henry and Archie in the mines? Estimating the time Regina dosed her around nine in the morning and the time to be around nine at night now, she figured that there hadn't been anything in her system for at least 34 hours if she subtracted two for the small dose in the mines.

She groaned and dropped her head into her free hand, winced when the sharp corner of tape on Regina's note stabbed her wounded cheek and flopped onto the bed. She held the note up to the moonlight and read it again with a faint smile. Her face throbbed, and she set the note on her stomach to touch her face with weary fingertips.

"Note to self, do not piss off Regina Mills. She will beat the shit out of you with a shovel," Emma spoke aloud, amusing herself through the situation.

"A fantastic lesson for all," Regina's silky voice called from the darkness. Emma glanced over as the door shut quietly behind Regina. "I had hoped you'd be awake. I brought dinner and crackers if you don't feel like eating anything too solid for the moment," she elaborated as she crossed the cement floor with smart taps. Emma was beginning to love that sound.

"I'll try, but I can't promise anything," Emma said and sat up. Regina set the tray on the mattress beside her and uncovered the plate of vegetables, rice, and chicken. She sat, pulling her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them immediately. She knew it was a protective gesture against the swell of affection Emma inspired, but she continued to hold her shins anyway.

Emma took a tentative bite of the zucchini and swallowed and another and then a bite of chicken. She swallowed forcefully and then recovered the food as her stomach protested. It wasn't much, but she'd at least eaten something. Regina rested her chin on her knee.

"I can't stay with you tonight," she said, and her gut dropped at the disappointment on Emma's face. She nodded and grabbed the thermos of tea from the tray.

"Henry?" She asked, already knowing the answer. Regina took a deep breath and nodded as she released it.

"It's okay. He should come first," Emma said with conviction, sincerely meaning the words. Regina smiled at that. "Could you… I like to read," Emma said quietly. At least she'd have an escape if Regina wasn't available to soothe her.

"I doubt our tastes are similar, Miss Swan," Regina laughed and folded her legs beneath her, relaxing into the easy banter.

"I like Jane Austen. Do you have any of her novels?" Regina's eyes snapped to hers, and Emma squirmed under the sudden scrutiny.

"All of them," Regina answered. "Which is your favorite?" She smiled, excited that they in fact shared some literary interest.

"Emma," Emma said with a smirk. "Haven't you realized that I am very much an Emma?" She said sardonically, and Regina allowed one short, sharp bark of laughter to explode from her chest.

"You do have a distinct stubbornness and arrogance about you," Regina conceded and allowed the happy moment to linger for a moment before standing.

"I'll return momentarily. I know you may feel sick, but will you try and eat a few more bites while I am gone?" She urged tenderly. Emma sneered at the covered plate of food but nodded.

"Oh, I nearly forgot. Ruby and Mary Margaret have been frantically texting you all evening," she said and handed Emma her cell phone. It was a gesture of trust as much as compassion.

"I hope you don't mind that I answered them. I told them exactly what I told Graham, which was that you'd returned to Boston for a few days in order to collect your things and break the lease on your apartment now that you intended to remain in Storybrooke. Is that satisfactory or should I have told them something different?" Regina clasped her hands in front of her nervously, hoping no backlash bit her for the executive decision.

"No, that's fine. Can I get my stuff delivered to your house? I'll just call a moving company and pay to have it shipped up here," Emma said absently as she punched at the screen of her phone and pulled up the messages.

"Of course," Regina answered regally and clicked from the shed.

Emma popped off a few texts to both of her female friends and picked at her dinner. She managed to get a few more bites down before Regina returned, book in one hand and clothes in the other. She had changed from her power pant suit and now donned a matching sea green silk pajama set and slippers. She moved the tray to the floor and replaced it with the clothes. They were mismatched basketball shorts and an over-sized t-shirt, both clearly belonging to a man. Emma's eyebrows shot upward, but her tongue remained blissfully still on the subject of where Regina had obtained the clothing.

"I know they will swallow you whole, but I thought you'd perhaps like something more comfortable to sleep in than your two-day old jeans. If you'll change now, I will wash your clothes and return them to you by morning," Regina offered almost casually as she sat cross-legged at Emma's knees and cradled the worn book in her lap.

"You don't have to do that. You've gone above and beyond the call of duty, Regina," Emma waved her cell phone around the shed, not wanting to take advantage of the generosity being shown.

"I want to," Regina offered shyly with a shrug and dropped her eyes to the book in her hands. She silently pleaded for Emma to accept the offer. It had been so long since she'd had someone to take care of, someone who needed her because they'd been broken and needed a friend. She loved nurturing her son, but being needed and wanted by someone with the means and maturity to take care of herself inspired an entirely different feeling.

Emma studied Regina's down turned face. One of her eyes was partially obscured by a shock of dark hair that looked even blacker in the pale light filtering through the windows. The lines of her face relaxed taking at least ten years from her age, and her usual olive complexion paled in the grey light of the moon. Her caramel colored irises were dark chocolate brown. She was a striking woman.

And she was just that, a woman. She wasn't a super being or an evil queen or some despot who ruled with an iron fist. She was just a hauntingly beautiful woman who pushed everyone around her to be and do their best, unforgiving of their weaknesses and shortcomings because she never allowed them in herself. It was a shocking revelation.

"If you're sure, I would really appreciate it," Emma admitted reticently, acutely uncomfortable with the kind offer. Kindness unnerved her because it usually came attached to an ulterior motive, but Regina seemed sincere. What motive could she possibly have by washing Emma's clothes? That, and she already held all of the cards where Henry was concerned. Emma had absolutely nothing she wanted except herself. She shivered with the thought. Someone really wanted her?

"Uhh, could you possibly help me get my bra off? I'm pretty sure I fucked my arm up again." She asked a moment before Regina took a breath to speak. The older woman clamped her mouth shut and nodded.

"The brace should have kept it in place," Regina waved at the black shoulder brace that covered her injured joint with a sleeve and hooked around her ribs on the other side. Emma nodded absently and accepted Regina's offered hand, allowing the woman to pull her to her feet.

They stood on the mattress, and Emma presented her back to the other woman. Regina pulled her arm sling off and unsnapped the bra, leaving Emma to remove it as she bent over and snagged the shirt. It took some maneuvering, but together they managed to get it over her head and both arms without causing too much pain to Emma's shoulder. Regina helped her back into the sling and adjusted the twisted strap. Emma fumbled with the button on her skinny jeans, huffed in frustration and turned to Regina. The older woman snorted at her childish antics, opened the button wordlessly, and turned her back while Emma struggled out of the pants and into the shorts.

"Oh my god, this feels so much better already," Emma moaned dramatically and settled against the pillow, eyes already drooping from the fresh and comfortable clothes. She threw her right arm carelessly above her head and scooted against the bed until she found that perfect comfy spot.

"Here is your tea," Regina said needlessly and set the thermos on the floor at Emma's head. "Your cell phone, Miss Swan?" She held out her hand expectantly.

"Can I keep it just for tonight?" She bargained like a child as she patted the bed for the device.

"Can you assure me with absolute certainty that you will not try to escape again tonight and call Miss Blanchard or Miss Lucas to come break you out?" Regina asked, already knowing the answer. Emma sighed and shook her head sadly.

"Let me say goodnight," she said and tapped out the message, sending the same to both of her new acquaintances and then turned it off without waiting for a response. Sleep already tugged at her mind anyway, and she was grateful that withdrawal made people incredibly lethargic. They slept for almost a week with episodes in between and then were pushed into the world with very little preparation for how to handle their urge to use again. It was a vicious cycle.

"Would you care to have me read aloud until you fall asleep?" Regina asked suddenly, not quite ready to part ways for the night even though there was nothing left to be done or said. Emma sleepily smiled up at her and nodded.

"That'd be really nice," she said and closed her eyes.

Regina sat at her usual spot near Emma's knee and opened the book. Somewhere during the first few pages, her hand found Emma's leg beneath the blanket. She traced little patterns across her kneecap with her thumb and squinted at the words in the dim light. She made a mental note to bring Emma a flashlight the next night. By the end of the first chapter, Emma's breathing was deep and even, face relaxed in a blissfulness that came only with dreamless slumber.

Regina studied her face for a few minutes and then brushed a strand of untamed hair from her face. Emma made no indication that she'd even felt the touch, so Regina repeated the action, gently untangling a small portion of Emma's slightly greasy hair. She made another note to get Emma into the shower while Henry was at school if possible. Her thumb traced the eyebrow of the sleeping woman and then stilled as she cupped Emma's cheek.

"I'll be your kindest and most loyal critic, Miss Woodhouse, if you let me be your Knightley," Regina whispered to the unhearing woman and hoped that the words reached her subconscious mind.

Emma Swan had changed her, softened her heart in less than a month. Every minute her anger slipped a little more and was replaced with something that felt a lot like love. She hadn't admitted it to herself yet, not ready to face the ramifications of what the resurrection of these long dead feelings meant. Emma Swan was important, and somewhere in the back of her mind, Regina recognized that she was the Savior, the love child of Snow White and Prince Charming.

But she wasn't ready yet. If Emma was the prophesized savior of the people of The Enchanted Forest, she'd lost her already before she ever held her, and Regina refused to face that inevitability. Not when she finally felt ready and able to let go of her anger. Not when she was falling in love with the broken woman who liked cheeseburgers and Jane Austen, the woman who had been abused and tortured on a level rivaling her own.

She doubted Emma had committed the evils that she had, that was a whole other level of darkness and evil she believe Emma incapable of, but she possessed the ability to understand it. And she loved Henry just as much as Regina, had nearly given her life saving him and the man who served as a positive male role model for the boy.

"Sleep well, Emma," she whispered and then sighed. She really wanted to just lay down beside the younger woman as she had the previous night, to feel her warmth and listen to her even breathing. She gritted her teeth, set the book at the head of the bed, and stood. If she waited any longer, she'd have lost all willpower to return the few hundred yards to her mansion.

For the following three days, this was their routine. Regina left notes in the morning, not because they were necessary, but Emma loved them. She kept them beneath her pillow, and Regina pretended not to know. Regina returned to the shed after lunch and sat with Emma until the time came to collect Henry from school. Today marked their last day of that particular bit, however, and they only received today by luck. It was Saturday, and Henry volunteered to help Miss Blanchard make her rounds at the hospital. It was something he often did and returned home just before dinner as a tired but satisfied little boy. After Henry was tucked in, Regina brought her dinner and read to her until she went to sleep.

Luckily, Emma only had one other violent episode, but Regina hadn't been there to witness it. Emma snapped out of it when she cut her arm pretty badly on a glass shard. She'd wrapped it in a pillow case and waited anxiously for Regina to return. For the past two days, however, she ate regularly even if it wasn't much in one sitting. The worst had passed, and Regina felt guilty for wishing her misery had lasted longer. Emma planned to return to Mary Margaret's when her withdrawal ended, and she began functioning relatively normally again. For all she knew, tonight might have been their last night together.

"Emma?" Regina called gently and glanced up from the novel. Emma hummed a response, and Regina saved the page with the taped note the younger woman used as a bookmark. Emma's eyes opened lazily when the mattress shifted and warm heat pressed into her side.

"Are you staying tonight?" Emma asked evenly, not allowing herself to get excited. It only led to disappointment. Regina touched her hand, pulled at her fingers, and Emma smiled at the intimate contact. She hadn't a clue what transpired between her and Regina over the past few says, so she tried not to question it. Regina made her feel good when she touched her, and that was all that mattered.

"If you want. Graham is with Henry," Regina answered and eased her head against Emma's shoulder. She'd been without the brace for a full day now, but Regina knew that the joint ached still.

"I want," Emma said goofily, the deeper emotions lurking in the moment frightening her too much to consider. Regina grinned.

"I want, too," Regina confessed seriously, surprising both of them when she willingly delved into those deeper tendrils of unspoken desire.

How had Emma been so wrong about this woman?

She raised her head and stared down at Emma. A pink tongue wetted the lips below hers, and Regina swallowed thickly. Emma wanted to kiss her. Her chest heaved with the realization, pressing her breasts into Emma's arm. Emma tucked dark hair behind her ear and tangled her fingers in Regina's short hair. Regina's fingertips ached with the desire to close the distance between them. She slid her hand around Emma's waist and clenched it painfully with the effort of remaining perfectly still. She silently told Emma that the next move rested in her hands.

Emma searched the dark eyes above hers, finding nothing but desire and fear and a hint of arousal. Regina just wanted her, nothing but her. She and she alone had caused those emotions in those soulful brown eyes. Before she overanalyzed the situation and the fact that Regina was in fact a female, her hand tugged Regina's head down, hesitating a moment before their lips touched. Two mouths flew open when harsh breaths pulled from their lungs at the heady sensation of sharing a first kiss. It was far more intense than anything Emma had ever experienced.

Was it Regina or what she'd done for her this past week? Emma needed to make sure, but she gave herself over to the kiss anyway. They fumbled, paused, found a rhythm as they took their distinct styles and adapted them into one. Emma pushed on Regina's shoulder, chest heaving with the effort of simply breathing.

"Regina, wait. We should stop," she gasped in between breaths. Regina breathed just as heavily and studied Emma's face for any hint of disgust or rejection. She found none, so she waited as Emma caught her breath.

"This can't happen, not yet," Emma continued a few moments later. "This," she gestured between them. "I don't know what this is. I mean, I want you, but I don't know if I want you because I want you or if I want you because we just went through a whole shit storm together this past week. Did that make any sense?" Emma squinted and looked to Regina's eyes to search for understanding.

"It wouldn't be fair to you if this is some post-withdrawal thing," Emma pushed on when Regina's eyes told her that she listened carefully rather than jumping to conclusions. Emma brushed her hand through Regina's short hair slowly.

"I want to be absolutely sure with you. I mean, I've kissed women before, but this was in a whole other league from spin the bottle, this was… I mean, damn woman, you can kiss. The point I'm trying to make is that I care about you," Emma confessed and then clamped her mouth shut at the reality of her statement. Shit. Keep going, she urged herself silently.

"I care about you, and I don't want to hurt you if this isn't what this appears to be," she babbled. "Can you give me that? Just some time to figure it out? Will you wait until I do?" Emma asked insecurely, afraid that Regina might have said no and left her alone for the night.

"I will," Regina answered simply and traced Emma's mouth with her thumb. She wanted to kiss her again, badly, but it wasn't what Emma wanted even if her body told her that it was. She wanted time and space to figure out her fuzzy brain and jumbled emotions.

"Thank you," Emma said around her thumb and then pressed a kiss to the pad.

Regina grinned shyly and returned her head to the pillow and arm to Emma's waist. It felt so incredibly wonderful to simply hold another person, knowing the other woman longed for her touch because she desired her, not because she'd ordered it or taken a heart.

_As long as you figure it out before you break the curse or you will never love me_. Regina warned darkly, but the words never made it to Emma's ears. It mattered very little what Emma decided because Regina already knew their time was limited. Unlike the savior, however, she hadn't the strength or nobility to stop it before she hurt Emma. She wanted this feeling to last as long as Emma allowed it.

When the curse broke, she knew that she'd never again see desire in those green eyes but disgust and loathing. It broke her heart already.


	9. What Have You Done?

Enjoy Lovelies!

Songs: Honeybee by Blake Shelton, Say Something by Great Big World and Christina Aguilera

* * *

Emma reluctantly returned to Mary Margaret's apartment the next day, and the day after that, she returned to work. She was weak, dehydrated, and tired as hell, but she was clean. She might have even worn the deputy's shirt if Graham had pushed the subject that Monday morning. She sauntered into the station, hips swaying to an unheard beat. She felt good. There was a minor hiccup last night when her brain refused to shut off, but Regina immediately answered her text and spent the next 90 minutes on the phone reading to the recovering addict.

"You have an admirer," Graham lilted and nodded his head towards the tall cup of coffee on her desk. Emma straightened her leather jacket and eyed the cup, body turning towards Graham while face remained glue to the cup.

"Is it you?" She asked cautiously, already feeling her playfulness around Graham return.

"I'd have drunk it by now and pretended it was my own. You're late," he grumbled and flipped the newspaper in his hands over, never once looking at her.

She picked up the cup, turning it when she felt pen impressions on the other side. _Good morning, Darling. -R- _Regina left her a note with enough information to know who it was from but not enough to be discovered by the casual observer. Anyone looking probably believed that "R" was Ruby. Emma smiled. Clever bitch.

"I take it from your swoon that you've uncovered the identity of your mysterious suitor?" Graham barbed and tossed the paper on the desk and propped his feet on top of it.

"Yup," Emma said with a glint in her eye and a wrinkle in her nose. She raised an eyebrow and stared at him over the cup as she took a sip.

"Care to share who R is?" He waved his hand in a circular motion, expecting more information. Emma smirked, an image of Regina's flushed face after their kiss two nights ago flashed through her mind.

"Nope," she took another sip to hide her laughter at the man's flabbergasted surprise. He very much mimicked a fish out of water, and Emma chuckled without pulling her lips from the cup and turned on her heel.

"Ruby?" He guessed. Emma whirled around with a quirked eyebrow and shook her head.

"Roy, short for Leroy?" Emma squinted and sipped her coffee, not dignifying that guess with a response.

"Reginald!" Graham slapped his thigh to emphasize his excitement and pointed at her. She nearly choked on her coffee.

"Reginald? Really? The guy at the grocery store that smells like old cheese and collects carts? That's your best guess. You're not doing much for my ego here, Sheriff," Emma deadpanned with a cocked hip. Graham shrugged sheepishly, and Emma continued towards the front door.

"Where are you going?" Graham followed her to the door and leaned on the metal frame.

"Uhh, Mayor Mills mentioned that her shed had been vandalized over the weekend. One of the windows was broken. I was going to go over there and put up some boards and see if there is any sign of who might have done it. Kids, probably," she lied… just a little one, she told herself.

"Oh, you want some help?" He smoothed his shirt and moved to follow, but Emma held up her hand.

"Nah, I got it. You look swamped with that newspaper reading thing you were doing. Don't forget to do your morning cardio with a game of darts," Emma tossed nonchalantly and turned again.

"Oh, Emma, I need you to do you night patrols this evening," Graham pinched out quickly, and Emma whirled on him, getting dizzy from her constantly changing direction. Her good mood faltered only slightly with the new knowledge.

"I only took this job because there were no night shifts," she barbed sarcastically and took another sip of Regina's sweet, literally, present.

"Please, I have a life, too you know, and I just gave you a whole week off. Your first week, might I add," he guilt-tripped her, and she rolled her eyes.

"Fine," she huffed and crossed her arms over her chest, holding the coffee beneath her chin.

"Thank you," Graham said and clapped his hands together like he was praying as he backed away slowly towards his desk. Emma stomped into the hallway.

"I'm taking the cruiser!" She yelled over her shoulder, snagged the keys from the hook and disappeared around the corner.

She pulled out her cell when she was safely enclosed in the car and tapped out a text.

_Thanks for the coffee._ She sipped the warm liquid and waited, smiling when her phone buzzed a few moments later.

_You're welcome. Did it suit your specifications? _Regina replied, and Emma smiled.

_You can never go wrong with something sweet. _She added a winky face emoticon for dramatic effect and sent the message.

_Duly noted, Deputy. I'm going into a meeting in a minute. Call Stacy if you need me. She has specific instructions to interrupt any meeting if you call. Have a good day, Darling._ Regina sent, and Emma wondered if she actually wanted her to disrupt the meeting. Regina seemed to hate meetings.

Emma read the text over twice, girlish smile growing each time. Oh yeah, this was something she definitely wanted to get used to and never take for granted. She giggled when her ears started burning. What the hell? She cleared her throat, tossed her phone into the cup holder beside the coffee and took off, hoping that being in action would have cleared her mind of Regina. It failed, and the uncomfortable burn of being apart from the woman settled into her chest.

"You are so screwed, Swan," Emma whispered to herself and dropped her head to the steering wheel when she stopped in front of Regina's house.

Emma fixed the shed as best she could, cleaned up the mess she'd made during her second fit of rage, and took a moment to smile at the mattress now on its side and tucked away in the corner where they'd moved it yesterday. The windows needed replaced, but for now the tools were protected from the weather and thieves.

When she returned to the station, Graham sat at his desk, head between his knees. His back heaved with deep breaths. Emma froze and then took two tentative steps forward.

"Hey, you okay?" She said a moment before she touched his shoulder.

"No, I'm not okay. I've been getting these flashed lately, like recovered memories or something. I got one right after you left. It was so real, like a dream but more vivid," he gasped out, and Emma squeezed his shoulder.

"Graham, you look like hell. Maybe you should go home and rest. I think you have a fever," Emma knelt in front of her superior and touched his forehead with the back of her hand.

"No, no, I'm fine," he pushed her away and stood. "Go home. You're right. It's probably stress. I'll manage today and get some sleep tonight. I'll be fine," he assured her. She grabbed his bicep and ducked her head to meet his averted gaze.

"Hey." She wasn't convinced that he'd be fine, but what choice did she have. There was no replacement to call in, just them, and she hadn't the energy to work a double, not after the past week.

Graham flinched at her touch, almost pulled away and then leaned into her. Emma squeaked and pushed him away roughly when he covered her mouth with his own. What the hell? Their relationship so wasn't like that. You're not her, Emma thought suddenly. Crap. She had so fallen hard for that uptight politician. How the hell had that happened? She pushed the thought away and glared at the man in front of her.

"What the fuck was that?" She snapped, hands finding her hips instinctively. Graham hung off the cell bars and panted. His eyes searched the room wildly, like he wasn't completely certain where he was.

"I'm sorry, Emma. I just… I need to feel something. I don't feel anything with her. I'm dead inside, and these flashes make me a little crazy. They make me feel something. There is something out there," he flung his hand towards the window.

"Something is keeping us from remembering. I'm not the only one. Go ask Ruby. Her hearing has increased tenfold. She can hear me leave the station and walk to the diner for coffee. She has it ready for me now. David left Kathryn for Mary Margaret even after he recovered his memories. Leroy is talking about starting a mining company, and Sister Astrid left the convent to run off and start it with him. Tell me that this is all normal. This is not normal!" He yelled, spit flying in her direction. She opened her mouth to speak, but he caught his breath and continued his tirade.

"Do you know what Henry thinks it is? He thinks you're breaking some curse that Regina cast on us. He says your our savior, the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming. And you know what, the more things keep happening, the more I believe him. He's the only person in this whole damn town who makes any sense right now!" He slid to the floor and slumped against the bars, chest heaving.

"Graham, you need to go home. I'm serious. You can't answer calls like this. Give me the department phone and go home. I'll do a double if I have to, just…" She knelt in front of him and hesitantly touched his shin. "Just go home, okay? Come on, I'll drive you." He nodded and allowed her to pull him to his feet.

She dropped him off at his door and texted Regina as she waited for him to go inside the apartment building.

_Graham is sick. I'm pulling a double. Can we postpone our late dinner in the shed until tomorrow? _She tapped out, cancelling the plans they'd made last night while on the phone with a heavy sigh. She hadn't seen Regina in 24 hours, and she missed the woman's shy smile.

_Is everything okay? And of course, you'll be exhausted by this evening with hours left to go._

_I think he just needs to sleep it off and will be fine by morning. _Emma reassured her and then pulled away from the curb without waiting for a response.

By 11 that night, Emma rubbed her eyes, not even bothering to look for suspicious activity as she patrolled the dark, wet, and incredibly boring streets of Storybrooke. Why Regina insisted they patrol at night was beyond her. Storybrooke was the sleepiest and friendliest place she'd ever been. The mine disaster was probably the most excitement they'd had since Regina had become mayor. She probably scared people into behaving with that cold glare she'd mastered so well. Emma smirked.

Screw it. If she got into trouble, Mayor Mills could punish her and then heat up her dinner. She hoped Regina was awake. She pulled to an abrupt stop in front of Mrs. Ginger's house and glanced around. Seeing no one, she snuck into her flower bed and plucked some purple and yellow flowers. A light came on inside the house, and Emma scurried back to the cruiser and took off. She barely contained her chuckle when the department phone rang a moment later.

"Deputy Swan," she answered professionally, just barely.

"Oh Deputy, I'm so happy you answered!" The older lady exclaimed, and Emma snorted. Why the hell wouldn't she answer?

"What can I do for you, Mrs. Ginger?" Emma asked.

"Oh there's prowler in my flower garden. Can you come over here?" The elder implored, clearly shaken up by the 'prowler.'

"Sure thing. I'll drive by and flash the lights if I don't see anything. Okay, you wait until you see them, and I'll be there in just a minute. I'm on your street right now," Emma assured the woman in a mock serious voice and hung up the phone. She guffawed as she turned around in the middle of the street and returned in the other direction. She flashed the lights as promised and waved at the elderly woman on her front porch.

"All good, Mrs. Ginger!" Emma yelled out the crack in her window. The woman covered her heart with one hand in relief and waved gratefully with the other. Emma saluted with two fingers and drove on.

"Another satisfied citizen," she smiled to herself and turned onto Mifflin Street.

The cruiser rolled to a stop behind the large hedges obscuring the bottom floor windows from the street, but Emma noticed a light on in Regina's study. Of course Regina was up late doing paperwork on a Monday night. She popped the trunk and rummage in the first aid kit until she found a small gauze pad, tore it apart thread by thread and tied the flowers together. A smile spread on her lips at the delight that would surely be in Regina's eyes when she tapped on the window of the study and handed her the flowers over the sill. God, she was so screwed. When had she become such a sappy romantic?

All thoughts of Regina's smile faded, however, when a figure clad in dark clothes rounded the corner of the house. Emma slowly faded behind the hedges again, crouched and set the flowers on the ground. The figure moved towards her, and at the last moment she swung her leg into his shins. He stumbled and crashed into the pavement with a yell. She sprang on him in a second, pressing her knee into his back.

"Don't move!" She yelled and twisted his wrist behind his back.

"Emma, get off me," the familiar accented voice demanded, and Emma faltered. Running on pure adrenaline, she rolled him over and jerked him to his feet with two fists in his black leather jacket.

"What the hell are you doing at Regina's house!" She yelled, uncaring that the entire neighborhood probably heard.

"I told you this morning. I have a life, sort of," Graham said much more calmly and jerked her hands from his jacket.

"What?" Emma's heart clenched.

"What the hell is happening on my lawn?" Regina called from the front door, already traipsing to the two arguing law enforcement officers.

"This is the her you told me about this morning? The one you felt nothing with?" Emma asked coldly as her vision darkened around the edges. The world slowed, the only sounds were the roaring in her ears and the deep breaths she released.

"Who did you think it was?" Graham asked hotly. His head snapped back and his hands flew to his face. Emma felt the sickening crunch of his nose cartilage breaking beneath her knuckles, and reality slammed into her. All this time, Regina had been fucking Graham and lying to her.

"Emma, please let me explain," Regina said, hands up in a placating gesture.

"Wait. This is R?" Graham squealed around his hands, his voice higher than normal from pain.

"There's nothing to explain. Clearly, I am the unwanted factor in this party," she stated coldly, staring Regina directly in the eyes. She jerked the cruiser keys from her jacket pocket and threw them at Graham.

"If you're well enough to fuck, you're well enough to patrol," a cold voice that Emma hadn't realized as her own surrounded them.

"Emma wait," Regina pleaded and wrapped her arms around her stomach. Emma grabbed the flowers from the pavement and threw them at Regina's feet. A solitary tear tumbled onto Regina's cheek when she realized why Emma had driven to her house on duty. She knelt and scooped them off the ground.

"Emma," she tried again and took a step towards the angry deputy.

"Don't. Don't fucking touch me. Don't you fucking dare come near me. You lied to me. You've been lying to me since the first night I brought Henry home. I opened up to you! I fucking trusted you, and this whole time you were fucking Graham. What? Our plans got cancelled so went to your back up? Or was I your back up just in case he took the night shift?" Emma clenched her fist, knowing she edged towards a precipice of rage that might have led her to strike the woman she thought she could have loved.

"You lied to me, Regina, about something as simply as sleeping with Graham. How am I supposed to trust you ever again? You said that you'd wait until I figured it out. How is this waiting?" Emma waved her hand in frustration.

"You're right. This shouldn't have happened tonight, not until you made your decision," Regina admitted guiltily. She clutched Emma's gift to her chest like a lifeline, and Emma's stomach tightened.

"I should have trusted my first instinct about you. You're a snake, Regina Mills, a fucking reptile," she said sadly and somehow found the strength to walk away.

Her chest felt hollow, like all of the happiness had been sucked out of her soul. Regina lied to her, practically cheated on her. It may not have been a big deal to other people, but she and Regina weren't like other people or so she had believed. They felt and perceived even the slightest betrayal on a much deeper level. She thought Regina understood that.

No, Emma berated herself, she understood that, but she hadn't cared.

"Emma!" Regina called down the street. "Deputy Swan!" She tried in her best mayoral voice. Emma walked away without a flinch or pause.

"Graham," Regina turned to the man who helped cause this disaster. "You need to follow her," Regina ordered.

"No. She's pissed off. She has a right to be. She's right about you, you know? You are a snake," he stated coldly. "At least with me, I knew it was just about the sex. You led her on, made her believe there was something between you. She's a good person. Hasn't she suffered enough for one lifetime?" His voice was calm and even, a testament to a rage far beyond anger. He hated her.

"I want my heart back," he demanded, and Regina gasped through her tears.

"You remember?" She said before she considered the ramifications of her words. His eyes widened.

"It's true?" He confirmed and shook his head, trying to rid his mind of the sudden shock to his system. There was a curse. Henry was right.

"If you follow her and make sure that she doesn't hurt herself, I will return your heart in the morning," Regina bargained, head high and spine straight though tears continued to drip onto her cheeks.

"Deal," he agreed and stalked towards the cruiser.

Regina returned to her study numbly and sat behind her desk. She touched the soft petals of the flowers Emma picked for her. Her grief pulled her forward, and she buried her head in her arms as sobs shook her violently. Everyone she loved was destined to be destroyed. She pulled herself up and fumbled with her phone. She barely read the screen through her blurry vision and punched Mary Margaret's name.

"Hello?" The sleepy voice came though the line.

"Miss Blanchard, it's Regina Mills. I need your help," she jumped in with both feet and heard shuffling on the other end, presumably the teacher getting out of bed.

"What could you possibly need at 11:30 on a school night?" The teacher groused but stayed on the line.

"There was an altercation at my house between Sheriff Graham, Deputy Swan and myself. She left on foot and is extremely upset. I fear she may try and do herself harm. I was wondering if you might wake Miss Lucas and look for her before that occurs. Graham is also searching. I'd go myself, but Henry is here and my presence would only exacerbate the situation," Regina explained without actually explaining anything. Only breathing answered her for a moment. She held her breath and counted to ten to prevent her anger from exploding on the woman.

"What did you do to her?" The normally docile and soft-spoken teacher accused boldly, and Regina gritted her teeth against her snarky retort.

"The details are not important. You may ask Miss Swan herself once she is recovered. Will you look for her?" Regina brushed off the question in true regal fashion and waited.

"Of course I will. I'll call Ruby as soon as I get off the phone with you. She better be in one piece, Madame Mayor," the teacher threatened a moment before the line went dead.

Regina slumped into her chair and tossed the phone onto her desk. She may have just prevented Emma from breaking the curse, but at what cost? She touched the flowers again. A cost too high to pay. Emma's happiness as well as her own.

What had she done?


	10. One Day It Won't Hurt Anymore

Dear Anon, You are the first person ever to complain about a story being updated too often. I laughed out loud and received many bizarre looks from my partner for being obnoxious. Glad you're enjoying yourself, though, and now you can read them in succession at your leisure.

Thank you for all of your reviews and follows. I fear after this chapter I might have to bounce back to the post-fic because I barely managed to edit this installment. Leave me some love and let me know what you think!

Enjoy Lovelies!

Songs: December by my very good friend, the beautiful and talented Cassidy Dickens. Please go check out her you tube channel. She's amazing.

* * *

Regina sighed and averted her gaze from the mirror in disgust at what she'd become. Her black clothes usually inspired confidence and bitchiness that covered her deeper insecurities and anguish. Today, the black tights and thin and simple cotton dress felt heavy, burdensome. Graham was gone. Her loyal huntsman met an undignified end in her arms as his heart turned to dust three days ago. Even if it was an accident, the fault lay with her. She never should have taken his heart in the first place.

As promised, she arrived at the station with his heart in a wooden box the morning after their fight with Emma. Over the years, she'd slowly forgotten which heart belonged to whom, but not Graham's. He was her prize, her trophy. It had never been real, but she loved him on some level, though he never loved her back. Her heart clenched as the memory washed over her, and she closed her eyes against the scratching inside of her skin. Her grief clawed from the inside out, a monster with the only goal of ripping her to shreds piece by piece, starting with her hardened heart.

Graham had been so relieved, so happy to see his heart again. With the curse so weakened and no magic in this land to compensate the loss of power, the magically enhanced heart crumbled with one touch of her finger. It happened slowly, falling apart piece by piece as Graham squirmed and writhed in pain on the floor. She cradled his head against her chest as he released his last breath. She hadn't meant to kill him, but what was done could not have been undone even if she offered her own life as sacrifice. Resurrecting the dead was an impossible task. She knew that better than most.

She sniffed and straightened her spine, but it collapsed when her gaze found the photograph on her dresser. Two weeks ago, Regina would have rejoiced with the new photos Sydney brought her of the compromising position in which he'd discovered the Sheriff and Deputy in that night. Now, her heart ached more with the knowledge that Graham and Emma sought comfort in each other's arms against the wall of the cannery. One picture in particular had haunted her dreams and waking thoughts constantly in the past 72 hours.

Graham held Emma against the wall by her bare thighs. Emma's arms were wrapped around his neck with her chin resting on her hand. Even without the other photos in the series, it was very obvious what was happening. Emma's eyes, however, were dead. They stared straight ahead, like she searched for the emotion to accompany what her physical body felt and came up empty. She found nothing and resigned herself to the pounding of an emotional man on the verge of a breakdown. Tears splashed onto the photo, and Regina turned her back.

This was the only picture she'd kept. She forced herself to go through them all once, heart shredding with each one, both at the intrusion of Emma's privacy and the debilitating fact that she'd caused the pain that led to something Emma obviously hadn't really wanted. After Graham finished, Emma dressed with a look of disgust on her face. He consoled her, and she pushed him away with an outstretched arm and finger. He hung his head and walked away with his hands in his pockets.

The next photos depicted Emma sitting against the wall, wailing in anguish. She grieved for what she had become and the love she'd lost before it ever had a chance to blossom. There were five photos of her heartbreaking agony, and then a few of Mary Margaret and Ruby kneeling at her side, pulling her up, walking her home.

At least she hadn't used that night, Regina comforted herself, though the fact offered no condolence for the hopeless situation. She squared her shoulders and exited her bedroom. Her knuckles tapped gently on Henry's door.

"Henry, are you ready, Sweetheart?" Regina asked as she opened the door. He adjusted his suit jacket and nodded. She tried to touch his shoulder when he fell into step beside her, but he pulled away violently and waited until she descended the stairs ahead of him.

She kept her distance the rest of the day. She never protested when he bolted into Emma's waiting arms when they arrived at the cemetery. Green and brown locked gazes, and Regina nearly followed her son's actions. She just wanted to feel Emma again. Her hand reached for the now acting sheriff, but Ruby and Mary Margaret surrounded her son and his birth mother. Her hand dropped limply to her side as they ushered them towards the coffin waiting to be lowered into the ground.

She rolled her eyes towards the sky and fought the tears. She missed Emma's pleading glance over her shoulder as the other two women pulled her forward. Regina wrapped her arms around herself and turned away from the gathering crowd, choosing instead to watch from the comfort and safety of her father's crypt. She almost made out the words Archie spoke over the coffin but not quite able to hear more than a murmur in the distance.

Grief clawed the inside of her chest again, and she sat on the steps of the mausoleum. Her arms held her shins and her head dropped to her knees. Under normal circumstances, even just two weeks ago, the proud woman never would have been caught crying in public. But these were far from normal circumstances. Everyone else grieved the loss of Graham, their beloved sheriff and friend. She grieved the loss of him as well as her son and the woman who had melted her heart for the first time in 50 years. If anyone noticed her presence, they hadn't cared enough to make themselves known, so her public display of grief meant very little anyway.

"Madame Mayor?" A gentle voice called to her. She raised her head and wiped at her tears, unknowingly smearing mascara across her face. Archie's face softened and he offered her a tissue.

"What do you want?" She asked, voice devoid of emotion. She hadn't anything left to give to this day.

"I saw you come over here. I wanted to see how you were doing," Archie answered compassionately and sat beside her on the opposite side of the steps. It wasn't that he feared her, but she was a reserved and private person. Invading her personal space would have closed her gates and boarded up the windows on her raw and grieving heart.

"Why?" Regina seemed genuinely surprised, and Archie's heart clenched. He looked over the now empty cemetery and leaned his elbows on his widely spread knees.

"Because I care," he offered with a shrug and allowed the words to sink in before he continued. "Everyone else went to Granny's. She and Ruby prepared a wonderful memorial for Sheriff Graham, and I hear there's plenty of food," Archie offered, hoping to escort the tortured mayor to rejoin the rest of the town.

"I know. The city is paying for it," she snapped and then took a deep breath, calming her anger.

"I haven't eaten since he died," Regina admitted quietly and wiped more tears from her eyes. "The thought turns my stomach."

"That's normal, Regina. Grief…" He sighed and fought his own tears. "Grief touches everyone differently.

"I couldn't help him," she whined, and more tears tumbled onto her cheeks.

"No one could have helped him. It was a heart defect, Regina. No one can prepare for something they have no knowledge of," Archie consoled her, which only made her cry harder. She knew the truth, and she resigned herself to suffering in silence. She looked towards the sky and fought her tears for control.

"He was my only friend," she admitted quietly. "I'm not even sure he liked me, but he was my only friend. I destroy everything I touch, Dr. Hopper," Regina broke down and dropped her head to her knees as quaking sobs tore from her throat.

Hesitantly, Archie reached out to her and lightly touched her quivering back. When he met no resistance, he rubbed his hand back and forth across her shoulders. It offered little comfort other than the fact that Regina wasn't grieving alone anymore. She only wanted her people to love her. Why wouldn't they love her?

"Dr. Hopper," Regina whined and sniffed, trying to regain control. "Archie, I think I need help," she admitted into he knees. Had the psychologist not been straining to hear her, he probably would have missed the muffled confession.

"I'll try if you let me, Regina," he quietly gave her the words she needed to hear. He'd waited for years for the stoic ivory walls of Regina Mills to crumble, and it had only taken meeting Henry's birth mother and losing her only friend to do it. She was strong. Maybe the strongest person he'd ever observed, and his heart felt the heavy weight of the delicate situation. One wrong move, and she retreated forever.

"I need to go talk to Emma. Will you come with me?" She asked shakily, unsure how far his offer of help extended.

"Will you agree to come see me once a week?" He bargained. She swallowed, considered his words, nodded.

"I want to become someone my son is proud to call his mother," she confessed hollowly, her voice raw from crying.

"Then I will come with you," he smiled sadly and offered her his arm, pleasantly surprised when she took it.

They stepped in the right direction today, and he prayed he had the strength and willpower to help the complex and severely damaged woman who took his arm and allowed him to lead her from the cemetery. She had helped save his life in the mines after all. The very least he owed her was to try and return the favor. Her steps and spine grew more rigid with each step towards the diner, and Archie patted her arm when they reached the door.

Regina ignored the small clusters of quietly conversing or crying citizens and clicked slowly towards Emma, Henry, Mary Margaret and Ruby near the end of the bar. Archie hung back a few steps and lurked nearby in case his intervention became necessary. Mary Margaret tensed and Ruby stepped in front of Emma and Henry as she approached.

"Not today, Madame Mayor. You can resume your abuse tomorrow," Ruby snapped and crossed her arms.

"I'm only here to speak with Miss Swan about my son, Miss Lucas, not to make a scene," Regina said coolly, and if Archie hadn't seen the tears himself, he never would have known she'd been sobbing uncontrollably a few short minutes ago.

"Rubes, just…" Emma sighed and dropped her head into her hand propped on the bar. "Just let her say what she needs to say so we can get this over with," Emma begged, exhaustion thickening her words. Ruby stepped aside but touched Emma's shoulder protectively, letting Regina know that she'd not be moving any further.

"I've decided on an arrangement that I believe will work for both of us," Regina started and glanced at her son. "And Henry." Emma blinked rapidly and raised her head but said nothing. Regina cleared her throat.

"You may spend afternoons with him after school. He is to be home at six sharp for dinner with me." The three women and her son reacted visibly to her sudden change of heart. She adjusted her shoulders and pushed forward.

"You may attend one family dinner per week if you wish to do so. The day must be discussed and agreed upon each week as I sometimes work late at the office. The third weekend of every month shall belong to you and you alone.

"I won't interfere unless something I consider untoward happens during that time. All terms of this arrangement shall be terminated if I discover that you've returned to old habits," Regina threatened, and dark eyes bore into green.

They both knew she referred to heroin, and on some level, they both understood that Regina continued to protect her from her addiction despite her major screw up and betrayal of trust. She fought to uphold her end of the bargain that she'd made in the mines. She was helping Emma recover from a distance, giving her a reason not to use again.

"Regina," Emma breathed a moment before she stood and wrapped the woman in her arms. "Thank you," she whispered into her hair. Regina leaned her forehead onto Emma's shoulder, face turned towards her neck.

"I made a mistake that can't be fixed, but don't let him down because of my failure," she whispered so low that Emma barely heard the words from the lips next to her ear.

Ruby, however, jerked at the small confession. Her new and improved hearing offered her access to the secrets others whispered. What mistake? She knew that Regina's fingerprints were burned into Emma's recent depressive behavior, but Emma never revealed what happened.

"I won't," Emma promised. Regina pulled away, nodded and strode out of the diner without further comment.

Emma collapsed onto the stool and accepted Henry's tiny body as he flung himself into her arms. Her eyes followed Regina until the door obscured her line of sight. Mary Margaret and Ruby smiled at each other and then at a shocked Emma.

"Ice queen bitch has a heart," Ruby jested, jostling Emma with an elbow. Emma snapped.

"Don't." Her voice was low and dripped with untold threats. Ruby sobered instantly as the skin around her eyes tightened.

"I won't have you speak about my son's mother that way in front of him. Or in front of me for that matter," Emma elaborated in the same deep tone. Ruby nodded and averted her gaze to the floor, tucking her hands into her back pockets sheepishly.

"Sorry," she offered and sounded sincere, and Emma's hard eyes softened.

Emma tucked her son's head beneath her chin as her eyes returned to the door, but Regina wasn't there. They had shut her out, and she allowed them. A voice in the back of Emma's mind told her to follow the woman, and her heart clenched painfully at the command. Regina may have desired to redeem herself, but Emma wasn't certain she'd ever trust her again. So she held her son and stared as life continued around them.

Her heart still wanted Regina, and Emma knew with absolute certainty that it was in fact the woman and not the deeds she'd fallen for. Still she only stared and remained completely still and built the walls around her heart. As long as Regina shared Henry with her, she determined to learn how to live with the ever-present burn of unspoken and unexplored wonders that could have been Emma and Regina.

_One day_, she comforted herself. _One day it won't hurt anymore. _


	11. The Long Road

First, I think my comment was misunderstood. I didn't mean anything negative about Anon's review. I just found it odd and wished to comment on it, which I had to do here as it was posted as a guest review. Rock on, Anon, and read however you wish.

Second, this chapter is for my dear loyal fan ShipHappens to help her through her stressful week at work.

Enjoy Lovelies!

Songs: Don't Make Me by Blake Shelton, Rescue Me by Kerrie Roberts, Stay by Miley Cyrus

* * *

"Would you like to stay?" Regina asked and hooked her thumbs into the tiny pockets of her blazer. Emma whirled on her stone walkway and squinted, testing the sincerity of her offer.

"I thought we were having dinner tomorrow night?" She clarified, and Regina grinned sadly.

It'd been nearly two weeks since Graham's death, and Emma dutifully followed every single rule Regina laid down in terms of Henry. She truly wanted to know and support the boy. She never asked for more than she was given, respecting the fact that Regina was his mother. She disciplined only when absolutely necessary, which had only happened once when Henry ran off after a fight with Regina. The distraught mayor called her, and she tracked him down at his castle and chewed his ass again about disrespecting the woman who raised him. He behaved like a prince after that.

"Maybe you could attend two dinners this week," Regina said hopefully. If she were honest, her motives were completely selfish. She wanted Emma near her, and if Emma spent time with Henry in the process, then both of them got what they wanted.

"I…" Emma started and crossed her arms over her chest protectively. She wanted to accept the offer, but kindness always came with an ulterior motive, even from Regina. "Why? Why give me this?"

"Maybe I miss you," she admitted quietly, dropped her gaze to the ground and mimicked Emma's protective gesture with her own arms.

"Stay if you'd like," she whispered before turning on her heel and marching up the foyer stairs.

Emma opened her mouth but no sound came out. It clamped shut with a click of her teeth. She turned to leave, stopped, sighed deeply. She deciphered her emotions as best she could but came to no resolution. If she stayed after Regina's confession, her presence became about them, and that was a place Emma refused to go again. She held herself tighter.

"I miss you, too," she whispered and then strode down the walk without looking back.

Regina watched her from the kitchen window with a heavy heart. She knew how much it had taken for Emma to open up to her, and she'd trampled all over that. The saddest part was that Emma actually cared for her, wanted her, maybe even could have loved her. Fallen in love with her. And she'd thrown it away for a quick stress relief fuck with a man who could never have loved her because he literally had no heart. Emma requested time to separate her feelings towards Regina from her feelings towards what she'd done for her. After two weeks of stolen glances and tortured gazes, they both knew that she had wanted Regina as the damaged and broken woman that she was, not because she'd ridden in on a white horse and saved the day when Emma needed a hero the most. A part of her still wanted her.

Regina sighed, set her face to something resembling happy and carried dinner to the table. Henry came first. She intended to lick her wounds in private after tucking him in. The evening passed in a blur, and she only allowed her deeper feelings of remorse and grief pull to the surface once Henry was in bed and she was locked away in her office.

She pulled out the file of loose sheets that she'd been using as a diary at Archie's urging. It stayed locked in her desk at the back of the drawer and would have been easily mistaken for her other papers filed in the drawer, taxes and land deeds and mundane run of the mill things that could possibly be of no interest to anyone snooping. As much as she loathed writing everything on paper for someone to potentially find, she secretly admitted that it helped her sort everything out.

She smoothed her hand over a fresh sheet and then glared at her phone when it buzzed. Her eyes rolled involuntarily when she saw Sydney's name attached to the text. She clicked the attachment, and her heart stopped. In the photo, Emma held a bag of something that looked a lot like her drug of choice. She wore the same clothes Regina had seen only a few hours ago, and her environment appeared to be the police station.

_Looks like our little jailbird fell off the wagon._ God, Sydney Glass annoyed the snot out of her. His usefulness lessened everyday as her desire for vengeance faded. He was a sniveling and slightly psychotic stalker of a man who actually put her on the fence between uncomfortable and frightened. If he ever turned on her, he had more than enough dirt to bring her down for good.

She was on her feet in an instant. Her mind checked out during the short drive, and she blinked in confusion when she suddenly found herself walking towards the front doors of the station. The tip-tap of her pumps echoed off the dark walls, alerting anyone in the station of her presence.

"Emma!" She called as she reached the hall outside of the main office. Emma stood in front of the deputy's desk. She'd been cleaning it out in preparation for her move to sheriff.

"Where is it?" Regina demanded and quickly encroached on her personal space. Emma leaned into the desk, confused as hell.

"What are you talking about?" Emma asked, though she had a fairly good idea. Regina pulled up the photo and held the phone out to Emma.

"Where is it?" She repeated, but Emma only stared, gaze shifting between her and the photo. Who the hell followed her?

"Where is it!" Regina screamed and grabbed her jacket. Her hands flew over Emma's pockets, and the acting sheriff fought ever instinct in her body to lash out. She should be searched.

"Regina, if you stop fondling me, I'll get it for you," Emma bit sarcastically, and Regina stepped back with that same hateful sneer she'd worn the day Emma took to her tree with a chainsaw. She reached into her bra and revealed the baggie, tossing it to Regina after a moment.

"I didn't use it. You can test me if you'd like. The saliva tests are in the cabinet," Emma pointed and gave Regina her keys. The acting sheriff sat and propped her feet on the desk as the mayor rummage in the cabinet for the right test, reading the instructions as she crossed the room.

"Open your mouth," she ordered and swirled the swab more than necessary before sticking it in the solution. Emma sipped her coffee and watched Regina's hysteria fade as she capped the test and set it on the desk.

"You have 10 minutes to tell me what the hell you were thinking." She crossed her arms and leaned against the desk near Emma's shins.

"Someone sent it to me, probably the same person who sent you that picture," Emma said with a shrug and stared into her coffee. If she said she wasn't tempted to use it, she'd have lied.

"Why on earth would Sydney Glass send you heroin?" Regina snapped, not quite believing Emma's claim.

"Why on earth would he send you a picture of it?" Emma countered. "Has he been following me for you?" Regina stiffened, and Emma bowed her head as the new betrayal washed over her.

"How long?" She really shouldn't have asked things she never wanted to know the answer to, but she needed to uncover the whole truth of who she'd nearly crawled into bed with.

"Since the day you mutilated my apple tree," Regina answered honestly. "I knew of your history, and I wanted to ensure Henry's safety. I've told him to stop several times, but he insists. He believes that he is helping me rid Storybrooke of your presence. He's a little obsessed with…" Regina paused when her phone buzzed again, another text from Sydney.

"What the hell?" Regina's eyes widened. She handed the phone to Emma and scurried to the windows, pulling all of the blinds. Emma nearly flew out of the chair when Regina pushed her away from the computer and pulled up Pandora, clicking on the first station available.

"Regina, what the hell are you doing?" She asked as 80's metal blared from the speakers. "Why is Sydney blackmailing you?"

"As I said, Sydney Glass is obsessed with me," Regina answered with a hint of fear in her deep voice. She opened her mouth to say more but stopped when her eyes glazed over with horror.

"I have to go." She brushed past Emma and grabbed her drug test on the way out the door.

"Regina!" Emma rolled her eyes and followed the older woman. How the hell had she moved that fast in those gigantic heels?

Emma followed the speeding Mercedes in her cruiser, realizing a few seconds into the drive that Regina had left Henry unattended at the mansion when she received the text. She left their son alone to come save her sorry ass. If Sydney even thought about touching him, she'd have killed him on the spot. She sprinted up the walk, finally catching up to Regina. The door was cracked, and she stopped Regina a moment before she entered.

"I have a gun," she explained when Regina slapped her hand away and glared. Emma took the lead without further explanation. Her service weapon felt comfortable in her hand, like it was always meant to be there.

Emma moved swiftly through her house, confident and suave, like she was meant to always have a gun in her hands. If she wasn't terrified for her son's safety, Regina might have been aroused by the sight. The door of her study stood open a crack, letting light into the dark of the rest of the house. Emma kicked it open the rest of the way, her shoulder taking the wood in stride as the door ricocheted off the wall from the abrupt force. If she noticed the hit, she never even flinched. Emma Swan was on a mission.

"I'm impressed by your response time, Sheriff," Sydney complimented from behind Regina's desk. He sipped from a tumbler coolly and picked up a piece of paper filled with Regina's handwriting. She gasped. He'd read her thought catalogue. She hadn't locked it up before running to Emma.

"Have you read this book, Sheriff? It's quite fascinating," he glanced up at her without moving his head and then cleared his throat.

"Emma's haunted eyes reveal her honesty. She lives boldly in a world that sought to steal her light. Her tortured soul cries out to mine, and I long for the day when I might take her in my arms and mould my suffering around hers. She may be my last hope of true love." Sydney lowered the page and propped his forearm on the desk, leaning forward with mocking eyes.

"Touching, Regina. And I thought you incapable of love." She sneered. "Oh, this is a good one, too."

"What the hell are you doing, Sydney?" Regina rasped, her voice thick with emotion. Emma spared a glance at the other woman and then refocused her attention on the man. If he even threatened to paper cut Regina, she planned to shoot him between the eyes. Who would question her? He had broken into Regina's home after all.

"Loving you, my darling, as I always have," he answered sincerely. Regina clicked her tongue in disgust.

"My affections are quite unrequited, aren't they, my dear?" He lifted the page again. "The photograph of Emma and Graham has been burned into my mind. Her last memory of the gentle man who had been so loyal to me all these year was that of disgust and emptiness. I wish more than anything to be one to return the light to her eyes, but when I close my own, I see only the anguish caused by my betrayal. Her beautiful green eyes, once loving when cast in my direction, are now bereft of anything but pain and mistrust. The only moment those eyes regain their soulfulness comes when she hugs Henry. I greet them at the door, not because I question her intentions with our son, but because I wish to see her eyes fill with something other than tears."

"Enough!" Emma growled. Though enlightening, these words were only eve meant to be read by Regina. She knew about her liaison with Graham after she'd stormed off that night. She had pictures of it, no doubt taken by Sydney. That conversation was for another time, when she wasn't ready to shoot someone.

"What the hell do you want?" She gripped her gun tighter and stepped towards the obviously deranged man. Sydney leaned back and sipped from the tumbler, clearly not bothered by the gun aimed at his head.

"What I want is simple, really. Tomorrow Regina will name me as Sheriff of Storybrooke, and publicly shun you. She will revoke all rights to Henry. If Regina makes any attempt to redeem you in the eyes of the public or assist you in anyway, I'll destroy both of you and insert myself into the mayor's office." He smiled and stood, tumbler in hand.

"Darling, I'm sure that brilliant mind is already reciting the town charter word for word. Let me save you the trouble. You may only appoint a candidate. As I am certain Miss Swan rarely gives up without some futile struggle, she is sure to run against me. You will endorse me, Madame Mayor. The people of Storybrooke fear you, and I doubt Miss Swan can change their minds in only a few days." He studied her bookshelf as he spoke, arrogantly turning his back to the pissed off woman with the gun. He feared nothing. He was out of his mind.

"What makes you believe I'd agree to any of this?" Regina asked, though she had already guess the answer. Her curse had weakened enough to free him from her thrall. His infatuation turned into blind obsession, and he intended to take her love if she refused to give it freely. Emma was just collateral damage.

"Oh, I have a few things tucked away," he finished his drink and sat the glass on her desk. "The picture of you and Deputy Swan handling illegal substances for one. Several of our noble deputy sticking a needle in her arm. The two of you locked in a passionate embrace in your shed. A certain mayor holding a box with what appears to be a human heart inside surrounded by a secret vault of occult items. The angles are limitless when you two get together." Regina clenched her fist but held her tongue. She knew he had far more than that on her.

"What stops me from putting a bullet between your eyes right now?" Emma threatened and gripped her gun. She'd never have killed an unarmed person, but he hadn't known that.

"My last will and testament, Miss Swan. There is a package documenting all of these incidents that will be given to the editor of The Daily Mirror in the event of my death. You know he can't resist a juice story. On the other side of that, I have given that same package to several acquaintances who owe me favors for covering up their own misdeeds. If I have not collected them within the allotted time frame spread over several months, they take them to my editor. The first is set to go out at eight in the morning."

"This is blackmail. I shall not bow to your lunacy," Regina stepped forward, and Emma shifted to keep her away from the gun's firing line.

"Then I will be the man who exposed corruption within the mayor's office. Do you think anyone would run against me when I announced that I intended to take over and clean up your office? Imagine the power I'd have with that office and the newspaper under my thumb." He stepped towards Regina, and Emma tensed, wanting nothing more than to kill the bastard. He kissed her cheek, and Regina held up a hand to stop Emma from reacting violently.

"Think it over. You have until 8am to make your decision, my love," he whispered into her ear and brushed his fingers through her short black hair. Regina's tensed but refused him the satisfaction of pulling away.

"Oh," he said and straightened, hand still on Regina's cheek. "You needn't worry about our son, Regina. I'd never harm him, never abandon him," he jabbed pointedly at Emma, meeting her eyes across the room. "He's still sleeping like a baby."

And then he was gone. Emma lowered her gun slowly, arms aching from the effort of holding the weapon in front of her for such an extended period. Regina wrapped her arms around her ribs and held herself tightly. Emma crossed to her before she thought too much about what she was about to do, and pulled Regina against her chest, strong arms holding her upper back and waist.

Regina sighed into the embrace and flung her arms around Emma's waist before the younger woman pulled away. Emma gasped when she buried her face into her neck, lips grazing the sensitive skin there. God help her, but she still wanted Regina Mills. No matter how many times she violated Emma's trust, she still wanted her, probably always would.

"Please tell me that you have a plan," Emma pleaded and rested her cheek against Regina's dark hair. Regina pulled back only enough to meet Emma's eyes.

"You. You're the plan," she said with conviction. Emma searched her eyes for any sign of doubt. She came up empty. Regina believed in her, free of doubts.

She grabbed both sides of Regina's face and neck and pulled their lips together. Regina gripped her leather jacket in her claws and held their bodies together. Emma broke away, gasped for breath and then brought them together again. Regina hummed into her passion and moved against Emma, happily accepting the warm tongue poking at her lips. Emma ripped away abruptly and rested her forehead against Regina's.

"We need a plan," she tried to bring them back on track with the breathy plea.

Regina tipped her head upwards and captured those soft lips again. Emma pressed down into the kiss, hands gliding down Regina's sides and settling on her hips. Regina vibrated against her as a shiver rocked her body, Emma's stomach tightened with arousal. Regina pulled back suddenly.

"Gold. You have to make a deal with Gold. He knows politics better than anyone I know," Regina told her in between breaths.

Emma's brow wrinkled as her mind struggled to soak up the information. She took a deep breath and reinitiated their kiss, unable to think of anything but Regina's lips. Regina's hands slid beneath her jacket and thin tank top, splaying across the hot flesh of Emma's lower back. Emma broke the kiss again and stepped away, aching for nothing more than to return to Regina's soft hands.

"Are you sure he will help?" She asked and stumbled to the sofa, distancing herself from Regina's tempting lips. Regina leaned against the wall, hands trapped between her back and the wood.

"He's far worst than you ever believed me to be, but he wants me in power. He loses as much as me if I'm bumped from office," Regina explained, hoping Emma took it at face value without pushing for more information.

"Okay. And that is another subject we'll be discussing when this is over," Emma said as she trailed her fingers through her messy blonde hair. "Along with the spying and the lying and everything else that he read from those pages." Her hand flung towards the desk as she slouched into the sofa. Regina remained silent.

"So, you'll get Sydney to your office by eight. Text me when he gets there, and I'll go see Gold so that we can keep him in the dark for at least part of this," Emma detailed, and Regina concurred with a nod.

"Emma," she started but stopped when Emma held up a hand.

"Don't. If there is even a chance that what is about to come out of your mouth will make me doubt you right now, just keep it to yourself because we need to trust each other right now. We're not angels, but we are far better than Sydney Glass." Emma met her gaze, and they understood each other. Regina closed her mouth and pushed off the wall and clasped her hands in front of her anxiously.

"Will you stay? Just for the night in case he returns?" She asked shyly, and adrenaline set Emma's pulse pounding against her neck.

Regina truly feared this man. And why shouldn't she? He was a stalker, and from Regina's wide eyes, a dangerous one. She hadn't been given the whole story between Regina and the reporter, but she gleaned enough in that one expression to know it was sordid and complex and had led to a very serious case of blackmail.

"I'll stay," she promised, feeling her protective instinct towards the woman and their son swell in her chest.

Regina closed her eyes and sighed in relief. They had a long road before they reached the closeness they'd found during Emma's week of withdrawal, but it was a start.


	12. Still the Queen

Enjoy Lovelies!

Songs: Private Parts by Halestorm, Rescue Me by Kerrie Roberts, Think I'm Sick by Icon for Hire

* * *

Emma's head jerked awake when the laughter of a live T.V. audience exploded at a particularly funny moment in the sitcom. Regina chuckled against her side, and Emma stared down at her. She was fully engrossed in the episode of _The Golden Girls _flashing across the screen. The characters moving around the set reflected in Regina's normally dark eyes. Her knees were pulled into her chest, one arm wrapped around her shins with her hand resting on Emma's leg. Her other hand was tucked beneath her chin, head resting on Emma's chest.

For the first hour, her body had quivered beneath Emma's arm, and her hands clenched at her shirt and leg with a white knuckled desperation. That had been hours ago, though, and Emma assumed that her presence made her feel safe enough to relax and enjoy some good old-fashioned sitcom humor, which made her sad if she thought about it too long. _The Golden Girls _really had been the peak of American television comedy.

She yawned and blinked rapidly. She doubted that Regina would sleep, but this night was giving her a run for her money. Her stomach grumbled loudly, and she glared down at it as if to tell it to hush up and quit sassing. Regina finally noticed Emma's discomfort and exhaustion.

"Are you hungry? There are leftovers in the refrigerator if you'd care for them. I made lasagna," Regina enticed her with the talk of food, but Emma wasn't sure she'd be able to keep anything down, not after tonight.

"Is it still in your coat?" Emma's voice was soft, as though she spoke of a long lost lover, and Regina winced.

"I'll dispose of it now," Regina said immediately and sprang from the couch.

Emma shivered at the loss of warmth and pushed her body up with hands on her knees. By the time she reached the door of the living room, a toilet flushed in the bathroom off the foyer. Regina emerged, drying her hand on a towel. They stared at each other. Emma really wanted to be angry at her for disposing of perfectly good heroin. It was completely irrational, she knew, but she still felt that twinge of hatred in her belly. She clenched her fists and breathed deeply.

"Emma?" Regina stepped towards the other woman but froze when her eyes opened to reveal the same cold rage she'd seen when she attacked her with the shovel.

"I just… just give me a minute. Go away," Emma ordered, eyes shutting with the effort of remaining calm.

Regina retreated immediately to the kitchen and busied herself with preparing a pot of coffee. The last few squirts of black gold were dripping into the full pot by the time Emma followed. She sat at the island and dropped her head into her hands. Regina waited and poured her a cup of coffee, adding sugar and cream as she remembered Emma's text from two weeks ago. She slid it between Emma's elbows and left the steaming aroma to do the rest. Coffee made everything better.

"Thanks," Emma said without looking up. The coffee was too hot to drink, so she had no reason to move just yet.

"Are you okay?" Regina asked hesitantly from the safety of the coffee pot, close enough if Emma needed her, far enough if she needed to react to the hot mug of scalding liquid being thrown at her.

"Triggers," Emma sighed and lifted her head but left it propped in one hand. "They're kind of like mini-withdrawal episodes. I've been completely fine all night until just now when I remembered that you had it in your coat. It didn't even really bother me when I had it in my bra. I really wasn't going to use it. I had no reason to then, but stress and exhaustion heightens everything, which is probably why I just spazzed out. I'm sorry if I scared you," Emma explained and apologized, eyes glued to the caramel-colored liquid in her mug. The color of Regina's eyes, she thought, and sighed.

"You didn't scare me, Emma. I only loath the fact that I am helpless when it comes to your addiction. I feel like I'm just holding on to you and hoping we land in the same hemisphere when it's over." Regina finally approached her, now that she was certain Emma had regained her control, and leaned her hips on the counter across from her.

"I know that feeling. I felt that way with Casey. She was always sucked back in so easily. I probably would have stayed away from the stuff after I got out of prison if it wasn't for her, but she was there, you know. I guess it was easier for me to be an addict with someone than alone and clean." Emma recalled her friend's smiling face with a twinge in her chest. She'd been grieving Casey so long that her death finally felt like closure. She sipped her coffee and tried to forget.

"You've mentioned her a few times. She was the friend who died just before you came to Storybrooke?" Emma nodded and stared into her coffee. "How did she die?" Regina pushed, and Emma sighed a moment before she sipped her coffee.

"How do you think?" She sniped, not really in the mood to discuss Casey. It was all the information Regina needed. Whether it was an overdose or another sort of accident, heroin was involved.

"I'm sorry, Emma. I'm sorry I never asked about her before." Regina touched her wrist and smiled across the counter.

"It's okay. I've been grieving for her so long that I'm almost relieved to finally have something to grieve. Does that make any sense?" Emma dropped her hand to the counter and straightened her spine.

She'd only ever discussed Casey with Ruby, but this felt deeper. This felt a lot like trusting Regina again. She shut down, sipping her coffee to remove her wrist from Regina's grasp. Damn it. She always did this to herself, forgave easily when she knew there would be an even harsher backlash the next time. Was she that desperate to be loved that she'd willingly give herself over to a woman who clearly could not be trusted? No, she wasn't, but Regina's dark eyes and warm hands compelled her to do it anyway.

"It makes perfect sense. My mother… uhh, she disappeared on my wedding day. It wasn't until many years later that I actually discovered what happened to her. She died just before I came to Storybrooke," Regina explained, omitting snippets of truth and preserving her secret for a while longer.

"You were married?" Emma blurted, mouth hanging wide in surprise. Regina chuckled at the animated reaction. It was so Emma.

"I was, nearly 15 years. It was loveless, practically an arranged marriage. My mother was somewhat of a political player in my hometown. So when he asked me, she agreed to it without my consent. I was only 18, and I stayed with him until his death." She explained, hoping the old world rules of politics hadn't given too much away. Fortunately for her, Henry's book failed to mention much of her back story. Convenient.

"That's a bit Medieval. Why didn't you have kids? I mean, you're great with Henry, and you went out of your way to adopt him as a single parent, so that means that you really wanted him." Emma asked gently, not knowing if it was going to be a sore subject for the other woman. Regina waved her hand and leaned against the counter near the stove, distancing herself from Emma as she stared into her coffee mug.

"It was not meant to be, I'm afraid. He had a daughter from his previous marriage, and I tried to love her as best I could. Ultimately, we parted on less than friendly terms. We rarely speak anymore, and when we do, it usually leads to more anger and pain for both of us. We tried for years to have children of our own.

"It wasn't until he died and I moved to Storybrooke that I discovered I have a condition called Endometriosis combined with a birth defect of an abnormally shaped uterus. It's rare to have both but not unheard of. Several years of hormone treatments, sperm implantations, and 6 miscarriages later, I adopted Henry. I'll never have biological children, but he is as much my son as any of them would have been."

Emma only stared and swallowed the burning in the back of her throat. Regina understood loss better than most. No wonder she behaved like a sociopathic ice queen half the time. If people knew, they wouldn't have judged her so harshly for her bitchiness. Regina desperately wanted children, had the means to take care of them. Meanwhile, girls exactly like she'd been 10 years ago accidentally got knocked up and gave their babies up for adoption everyday. Life really wasn't fair.

"Jesus. I'm sorry, Regina. I can't even imagine," Emma started but faltered for words. She understood now why Regina had been so threatened by her and so keen on her leaving Storybrooke. She hadn't hated her; she loved her son.

"That's life, Miss Swan," Regina replied to her failed attempt at comfort, using her proper name in defense against the pain and also her mistake in revealing too much information. If Emma calculated the math, she'd have realized that Regina wasn't telling her the whole truth, or worst accused her of lying outright. Luckily, the harder facts in her confession distracted Emma from the menial details of time.

"I'm sorry about your mom. Were you close? I mean before she disappeared?" Emma turned the subject to a less paralyzing subject.

"Don't be sorry, dear. I'm not. I loved her, and I think she loved me on some level. Ultimately, I was a pawn in her game of politics. So, we weren't particularly close. Would you care for more coffee?" She asked as though they discussed something frivolous instead of life-defining trauma from their childhoods. Emma followed the diversion easily, having used similar ones her entire life. Regina was done sharing.

"Uhh, I probably shouldn't. I'd like to get at least a few hours of sleep." She wanted to bolt, runaway to the station or to Mary Margaret's.

"Do you," Regina cleared her throat and moved to the sink as she gathered her nerve. "Do you want to stay with me?" The question was vague, but Emma understood her meaning perfectly.

"I think I should probably stay on the couch." _Yes, I'll stay with you. _She answered honestly in her head, but her heart shied away in fear. She took her mug to the sink and watched Regina rinse it.

Being physically close with Regina confused her, made her forget that she'd been betrayed and trampled in less than a week of romantic contact with the woman. It wasn't meant to be, not when she questioned everything Regina said and did. She uncovered no plausible explanation for her bizarre attraction to the other woman, but it was constantly present, lurking beneath the surface, ready to fan the embers of desire at the mere sight of the mayor. She wanted her emotionally and physically, but Regina screwed it up, destroyed her tentative trust.

"There is a guest room beside Henry's if you care for a bed," Regina accepted the rejection gracefully.

"That works." She shrugged. As long as she had a roof over her head and something soft beneath her back, where she slept mattered very little as long as it wasn't in Regina's warm embrace.

"Goodnight," she said quietly and left Regina to her own thoughts.

"Goodnight, Darling," Regina returned, long after Emma was out of hearing range.

She reached into a pocket and pulled out her cell phone, scrolling to the name she never thought she'd call. She stared at the screen as she moved to the study and poured herself a drink. She hit the dial button and slipped out the back door of her study and onto the back deck. Blood pounded behind her eyes as the harsh fingertips of a migraine slid around her skull. Her movements felt mechanical, calculated and far calmer than she felt as she lit a cigarette from the pack she kept hidden on the deck.

"Madame Mayor, to what do I owe this very late pleasure?" Gold's slippery voice slid into her ear, and she swallowed the bile in her throat. He sounded as though he'd been awaiting her call.

"I want to make a deal." Smoke billowed from her mouth as she spoke, and she gulped apple flavored liquor from her tumbler.

"Well Dearie, I never thought I'd hear those words from your lips again," he mocked, and she froze. He knew. He remembered. Had he always known? It was his curse after all.

"Sydney Glass is blackmailing Emma Swan and myself. Tomorrow, I will announce my endorsement for his candidacy as sheriff. I want you to help Emma win the election. Tomorrow morning around eight, she will come to you and offer to make a deal. I'll pay the price, and you'll help her without revealing that you've received payment for it. Are these terms acceptable?" She laid everything out, uncaring if she gave him too many details. He probably already knew anyway.

"What makes you think you have anything I want?" He asked nonchalantly. She covered the phone and caught her breath. He toyed with her, and that was never a good thing. She straightened her spine and forced herself into the role of Queen Regina.

"There is always something you want. Name your price, imp," she demanded and then finished her liquor.

"So you've figured me out then," he giggled maniacally, and her eyes slid shut at the sound.

"Name. Your. Price." She bit out, voice rasping from the strain and the cigarette.

"Answer me one question first. Do you know who Emma Swan is?" She pulled smoke into her lungs and sighed into the burn.

"The Savior. Snow and Charming's daughter," she ground out between clenched teeth. She should have said no, but he would have known she lied. He always knew.

He giggled. "Then I know my price, Dearie. Exact your revenge. I want you to kill Abigail and frame Snow White, all the while making her daughter fall in love with you."

Her heart dropped. The truth, when it came to light, destroyed any chance she and Emma ever had. She bowed her head and pressed on. She was already forced to take Henry from her, and now she was going to be forced to take one of her only friends.

"And you'll leave Emma alone? Help her win the election?" She confirmed.

"I'll do better than that, Dearie. Do what I ask, and I'll make sure Mr. Glass' reputation is destroyed along with any untoward photography of Miss Swan. Oh, and there's one more thing," he paused for dramatic effect, and she had an overwhelming desire to slit his throat.

"You may never speak of the real reason behind Mrs. Nolan's death."

She should have been frightened. She should have said no and found another way, but as his giggle rose in pitch, the anger and hatred she'd tamped down for so long simmered. She welcomed the slow burn of vengeance in her veins. This was one deal she refused to honor, and by the time she'd finished, both Gold and Sydney will have dirt, and hopefully, some blood on their faces.

"Deal." She agreed, her voice devoid of anything but The Evil Queen. She ended the call and immediately made another.

"Sydney," she breathed seductively when he answered. "I'm so sorry about tonight's ugly scene. She's trying to destroy me Sydney. I need you," she allowed a small quiver into her voice, slightly disgusted by how easily manipulation still came to her.

"My love, what is it?" Sydney slipped easily into his role as her knight in shining armor, and she breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn't too far gone to be useful.

"She needs to be stopped, Sydney. Meet me at my office at eight. I have a plan, but it's much too delicate to reveal on the phone. I have to go, Darling. She's nearby. I'm so sorry I ever doubted you."

She ended the call and lit another cigarette. The wicker chair on her patio was damp and cool with dew, and she gave her body over to it completely. She hadn't a clue what she intended to do, but she had five hours to figure it out.


	13. How to Survive This Storm

Hello, My Doves! Thank you so much for your reviews and follows. This is a tough story, and I'm pleased that you're enjoying it. This chapter took forever for some reason. It just wouldn't come, but I believe I have found my groove again.

Enjoy!

Songs: I'm Only Human by Christina Perri

* * *

Weeks passed and still Regina hesitated to uphold her end of Gold's bargain. Emma won the election, just barely. As promised, Gold built up Emma's hero complex, nearly taking them both out in a fire in the process. He kept Emma in the dark about his plot and allowed the savior to act as a savior should. She publicly shunned Gold at the debate, revealing his dirty political show for what it was. Regina wanted to clap when Gold walked out of Town Hall, seemingly dejected and embarrassed, but knew it was a show on his part. Emma's nobility, however, had been genuine.

When she finally caught up with Emma at the diner having a drink in celebration of her big failure, a genuinely affectionate smile spread on her face. She hated that fact now, but what was done was done. Emma reached for her as she placed the badge on the bar, and Regina pulled away, shutting herself down from the emotions that surely would have killed her to feel when Emma discovered who she truly was.

Regina stood at her bedroom window in her pajamas, drink in hand and replayed the moment over and over. Emma had reached for her. When she discovered that everyone thought she was a hero and worthy - something more important than breathing to someone like Emma Swan - Emma had reached for her in celebration, not their son or Mary Margaret or Ruby or Archie. She'd wanted to share the moment with Regina, and she denied Emma that. It was for the best.

Regina downed the liquid and sighed into the apple-flavored burn, simultaneously reaching for the phone on her dresser. She held it to her ear and locked eyes with Emma's in the photograph of her and Graham. The only way Emma avoided that deadening of the heart again was for Regina to keep her distance, but Rumpel wanted her to pursue Emma, make her fall in love. She closed her eyes when Sydney's voice slid into her ear from the other side of the line.

"It's time. Text me once you've finished," she said and ended the call. Sydney never became angry or wounded when she hung up on him, not as long as he thought she loved him. Fooling him and Emma and Gold all at once presented a near impossible magic trick, and not the kind that involved purple smoke. Her mother had taught her well, though, and technology presented countless opportunities for deception.

Her weary muscles thanked her when she curled atop the cool blanket on her side. She held her cell phone in front of her and tapped out a text to Emma.

_I can't sleep. Are you awake? _A reply came only a few moments later, and Regina smiled easily at the emotions Emma inspired.

_Nope, haven't slept much since I became sheriff. Small town people are needy. _

_Has Mrs. Ginger discovered another prowler? _Regina followed the train of thought, grinning at the paranoid old lady's antics. Graham had a way with her, though, and apparently Emma found her own way of handling her calls.

_Haha! Not since I stole flowers from her garden. Leroy got drunk at The Rabbit Hole and is now passed out in a cell. Astrid is freaking out… can we just take a moment to appreciate the absolute weirdness of that union? _Emma responded a few minutes later, and Regina imagined her at her desk, feet propped and cup of coffee in hand. She smiled.

_True love comes in the most surprising and unexpected forms._ Her fingers faltered, and she simply stared at the words. She closed her eyes, allowed herself five silent seconds to reconsider, opened her eyes.

With Emma, the seed practically planted itself. The younger woman's desperate need for love and acceptance lurked in every word, every action, even in her gruff and clumsy speech at the debate. A part of Regina wondered if she feared the rejection of losing to Sydney and sabotaged herself when the opportunity presented itself under the guise of honor. It was a pathetic way to live, Regina thought, begrudgingly recognizing the parallels between The Evil Queen and The Savior. She sent the text.

_Yes, it does._ Came the shortened response, and an invisible bag of bricks slammed into her stomach. Regina hooked her easily.

_I can have a pot of coffee ready by the time you get here. Interested? _Regina reeled her in, excitement building in her veins despite her guilt.

Even after all these years, hatching a perfectly laid plan made her heart beat quickly and her hands shake with adrenaline. So much for her hard work with Archie over the past few weeks. She may never change, despite the fact that she wanted to. She snagged the photograph from the dresser and descended the stairs, entering the kitchen before her phone buzzed again.

_You're a goddess, woman. Be there in five. _Emma responded, and Regina almost revoked the offer when the words pulled an easy smile to her lips. Emma forgave too easily, and it led to more pain. Regina knew this, but with Gold's minions keeping close watch, she hadn't any other option. He'd helped Emma win the election, but he hadn't followed-thru with destroying Sydney's reputation, something she was sure to get the blame for. He bided his time, waiting for her to make a move on Emma Swan.

_Let yourself in the back. Park the cruiser a couple blocks away in case Sydney is watching. _Regina instructed, not bothering to wait for an affirmation.

She squared her shoulders, flipped the switch on the pre-made coffee pot and switched on a light jazz station with the universal remote. When the curse broke, the annual magical upgrade to her house and wardrobe would be sorely missed. She hadn't completely disliked the 80' or 90's, but she found life becoming easier with the technological advances.

She cranked the volume a few notches and then moved around the kitchen, collecting sugar and cream and two mugs. Hopefully, the music muffled their conversation from any bugs Sydney may have planted. He was out of his mind with envy in regards to Emma, and one misstep on her part could have sent him spiraling into his delusions, never to return. She needed him focused, and she needed Gold to believe she followed his instructions.

He wanted her damaged but not broken. She was important, both in regards to breaking the curse and to Regina's future, though she hadn't yet figured out the latter. Whatever the reason, Regina intended to leave Emma as unscathed as possible. Nothing stopped the betrayal and subsequent tear in their relationship when the truth came to light, but at least Regina found comfort in the fact that they would always share Henry. That simple fact made all of this tolerable. If she couldn't touch Emma, at least she shared their son. Perhaps loving someone from afar quelled the extreme loneliness someone like her felt. She and Emma were tied together for life.

A soft tap tore her attention from her dark thoughts. Of course, she'd forgotten to unlock the door. A swell of affection clenched her chest when she saw Emma's tired eyes and gaunt face, and she immediately summoned the anger she used to drown all other emotions. She'd not have survived opening her heart again. She already struggled to shut it down after she'd broken Emma's. Anger was all she had, all she'd ever have. Anger and Henry.

"Wait on the deck. I'll be out momentarily," Regina whispered as she opened the door a crack. Emma squinted in confusion but nodded and dropped into one of the wicker chairs.

Regina poured their coffees and bit the corner of picture. Emma relieved her of the hot mugs the second she stepped into the cool air. She placed the photo on the glass table, face down, and sat on the other side of the table. An awkward silence stretched between them now that they were actually face to face. They'd not been alone since the night Sydney threatened them. While Emma stole the election from underneath him, she feared his retaliation if she stepped near the woman with whom he was obsessed. The protector in her squirmed with the desire to publicly castrate the man, but she knew it was hopeless.

Regina shivered in the crisp air and grabbed her coffee cup for a modicum of warmth.

"Here," Emma unzipped the oversized rain coat with the 'Sheriff's Department' in white lettering on the back and draped it over Regina's shoulders, breaking the iciness of their bashful silence if not the cold Maine air.

"How have you been, Sheriff?" Regina smiled cordially at the other woman and pulled the coat tighter around her shoulders. It smelled like vanilla and strawberries, like Emma.

"This town is ridiculous," Emma laughed, and the remaining tension slipped away. "Are all small towns this needy or is Storybrooke special?"

"I cannot speak to other towns, Miss Swan, but I empathize with your frustration. The petty sniveling and entitled demands of the citizens of Storybrooke can be taxing. Are you navigating your recovery through the demands of your new position successfully?" Regina asked carefully, and Emma rolled her eyes. In other words, had she fallen off the wagon?

"Uhh, yeah," Emma said and sipped her coffee to hide her nerves. "That nurse, Lauren, is meeting with me a few times a week. I won't go to the group meeting, but she understands my situation, at least superficially. You know, with the whole keeping the fact that the sheriff is a junkie thing under wraps. She brought Archie in a few times to talk through my triggers and coping mechanisms and stuff. I've heard most of it before, but I appreciate them, you know." Emma finished with a shrug and took a long swig of her quickly cooling coffee.

Regina also swallowed some of the warm liquid, humming as it warmed her from the inside out. "I'm glad you have a support system. I'm sure the conference rooms at the hospital are much cozier than my dusty shed."

Emma grinned and cast her eyes to her half-empty mug. "I liked your dusty shed."_ It might be the first place I've never felt alone._ She continued silently, and Regina wished for the ability to read Emma's mind.

"Well, if you feel so inclined, you may sleep there whenever you wish." Regina's voice was light, carrying a hint of amusement that neither of them actually felt. Emma sighed and leaned back.

"What's that?" She jutted her chin towards the photo. Regina regretted her momentary valor when she'd decided to give the picture to Emma.

"This is… an apology," Regina answered cryptically and handed her the picture.

Emma sat her coffee on the table and held her weight with elbows on her knees, steadying her heart before flipping the picture over. A light gasp pulled from the back of her throat. The moonlight wasn't quite bright enough to make out her facial expression, but the compromised position was obvious.

"Where are the rest?" Emma demanded, her voice softer than she liked. It sounded more pleading than demanding, and her jaw muscle danced with the strain of maintaining control.

"I destroyed the copies I had. Sydney may have several replicates." Regina hid behind her coffee cup and pulled Emma's coat around her more tightly.

"Why keep this one?" Emma's gut clenched and roiled in fear of the answer. Regina clearly attempted to amend her mistakes and betrayals unless this set her up for another entrapment. Emma scrubbed a hand over her face, photo dangling between her knees.

"Your eyes. You look hollow inside, and I felt guilty. I'm not a kind person, and guilt is not an easily inspired emotion. I'd like to rectify my misdeeds, Miss Swan," Regina answered honestly, her words sounding much like an apology rather than an explanation.

"Rectify away, Madame Mayor, but don't expect forgiveness. I don't think I'm capable of it once my trust has been broken, at least not completely." The words weren't unkind or angry, just a statement of fact.

Emma tossed the photo onto the table and leaned back with her warm mug. She summoned righteous anger at the violation of trust, and it refused her the balm against her pain. They finished their coffee in silence.

"Would you care for a refill?" Regina asked as she stood, holding out her hand for Emma's cup.

"I'll get it. You want one?" Regina nodded and handed over the mug.

She moved to the railing and grappled with the urge to light a cigarette. The unexpected opportunity of Emma getting their refills was too good to pass up for a smoke, however. She tightened her muscles, simulating the appearance of shivering, when she heard the soft taps of Emma's boots against the tile. The savior's chivalry dictated she rescue a damsel in distress.

"Hey, why don't we go inside?" Emma said as she sat the coffees on the railing.

"We can't," Regina glanced up and then away shyly, drawing Emma further into their game. She felt sick. "I'm afraid that Sydney planted bugs. I can't be certain, but I'd rather exercise caution than put your safety at risk." She hadn't needed to fake the emotion behind the sentiment. She cared for Emma, and an obsessed man was perhaps the most dangerous creature in the world.

"Hey," Emma said softly and touched her shoulder. Dark eyes turned upwards at the gentleness being shown. "When I find proof of his blackmail scheme, I'm going to arrest him. Until then," she left the sentence hanging open and pulled Regina into an embrace. "I have more than enough heat to share."

Regina grinned up at the sheriff and then dropped her head to one shoulder and set her hand on the collarbone of the other. The feminine and vulnerable gesture inspired Emma to squeeze her tighter, and Regina's stomach clenched. Emma Swan made this too easy. Surely, Gold's goon had snapped the photo by now, and she knew that the right thing to do was to step away from the savior, spare her some pain.

"He frightens me, Emma," she whispered instead of moving. The words were truthful, not an act. Emma stiffened with anger.

"I won't let him hurt you or Henry. I'll sleep in front of your house in my cruiser if I have to," Emma vowed passionately, melting the ice walls Regina had begun constructing around her heart again. What was it about Emma Swan that touched her so deeply and effortlessly broke through her thick barriers to the damaged woman beneath?

"No, Emma. You need to stay away from him. You're fearless, and it's blinding you to how incredibly dangerous he is." Regina raised her head to meet Emma's eyes. She moved the other hand from Emma's waist to her other collarbone.

Emma's breath caught when the air around them snapped tight, urging her to lower her lips to the one's only inches beneath hers. Regina elicited so many emotions. She felt strong and vulnerable and angry and safe all at the same time when she touched the mayor. The combination of warring emotions reeled around her mind, distracting and confusing and arousing her all at the same time.

Finally, she pushed them all away and wrapped her hands around Regina's slim hips beneath her heavy coat. The mayor tipped her head up and pressed into her when she realized what Emma intended. That same electric spark they felt in the shed during their first kiss tingled on their lips, and two sighs slipped into the night when their mouths met, parted from the shock, and came back together.

Emma forgot the betrayals and pulled them closer with firm hands splayed over Regina's back. A buzzing in Regina's pocket interrupted the rapidly heating kiss, and Emma groaned in frustration when they broke apart breathlessly. Regina checked the message with shaking fingers and remained tucked against Emma's body.

"You must go," Regina said sadly and returned the phone to the pocket of her pajama pants.

"Why?" Emma bit. She wanted to stay and make out like a middle school girl on her first date.

"Sydney will be here any moment," Regina blatantly lied and then covered Emma's lips with her fingertips when the sheriff opened her mouth to protest. Sydney had his marching orders and remained with his prisoner until further notice, but the desire to protect Emma from this ugly situation swelled in her chest.

"I'll be fine," Regina breathed and pressed onto her toes for another firm but chaste kiss. "Please go. You're on speed dial if I should need assistance."

Emma stared down at her another moment and then stepped back from the embrace. She opened her mouth, clamped it shut and stepped off the deck wordlessly. Regina watched her disappear into the darkness and pulled the thick coat tighter, surrounding herself with Emma's scent and warmth. Not only had she left the coat but the picture as well.

Regina leaned her elbows on the rail and sipped her coffee, knowing sleep eluded her for another night. Emma Swan had destroyed her, and without The Evil Queen holding her together, Regina treaded water aimlessly. Who was she without the anger? Without the blood thirst? She was merely a broken woman with a tortured soul who hadn't a clue how to survive in a world without magic and power and rage.

She sighed deeply and then wandered to the living room with the picture and her warm mug. Her heart resigned itself to another lonely, sleepless night with only Blanche, Dorothy, Rose and Sophia as her only company. How simple growing up would have been in this world. Greed and narcissism ran rampant, sure, but if she had been born here, she might have stood a fighting chance of running away from her mother.

She and Daniel might have made it. Her eyes slipped shut at the thought, and she huddled into Emma's coat despite the warmth of her house. Her destiny consisted of forbidden kisses and keepsakes from the loves she'd lost before they blossomed. Even a big, beautiful, forgiving heart like Emma Swan's had a limit to how much abuse it withstood before it abandoned her as a lost cause. Perhaps if she played her cards right, her hand in Mary Margaret's framing remained silent.

And maybe, if she played Gold and Sydney off one another, she and Emma reconciled at the end of this mess.


End file.
